My opines technology that "failed"
Read this article on 10 disappointing technologies.
Here are my thoughts on some of them:
Biometrics
Biometrics always gave me the heebie-jeebies because it's simply giving too much information to people who really have no business asking for it in the first place. If you are doing something that requires a security level where biometrics even comes up as a topic, you pay a fucking set of guards to look everyone in the face and get pissy with them if they have the slightest suspicion you're lying to them.
Then, you put the biometrics after that. Or another guard in a worse mood.
The point being, you can always find a way to fool a machine. Fooling peoples is harder.
Or, people ARE the only viable biometric safeguard.
Ubuntu
I actually see a day where I might move some of my family's computers to Ubuntu, because I've installed it a few times now and have gotten everything to work that I wanted to. I haven't done it yet because for now I have valid instances of Windows 2000 running on most of the boxes and XP running on one (because they don't allow you to put it on all the boxes you own, which I think is a stupid business model for home computers) and it all works, so I'm too lazy to bother switching until I have to.
However, lately, there are enough web sites that check what my FREAKIN' OPERATING SYSTEM IS and wont' allow me to run their stuff because my OS is "too old" or "doesn't support" this or that, which is horseshit. I go onto the same site with an Ubuntu box and everything works. When I'm accessing you through a browser, you shouldn't care what my OS is.
I also have held off due to concerns about technical issues that arise when I'm not home, thinking that my family could troubleshoot Windows issues better than Ubuntu ones. It turns out they're typically floored either way, so I've tossed that out as a roadblock.
So, if I don't have the money to get newer stuff in the next couple years, I may have to switch operating systems just so sites on the web will let me do what I want.
If that's not silly, I don't know what is.
Oh, and I wish Apple would do a true port of the Mac OS over to standard "intel" chips, because then I'd just use them. They appear to be worth the money.
Virtual Reality
I knew virtual reality would never amount to anything because it faces the same problem robots and cartoons do, it falls into the uncanny valley. When your brain gets all the signals that you should be moving and feeling motion when you aren't, as it would in home virtual reality systems, you start feeling queasy, no matter who you are.
I got to try an early VR setup years ago, and I'm not the sort of guy who gets queasy easily, but man, after 5 minutes, I had to yank that sucker off my head and go sit down for a few.
The current spate of 3D movies demonstrates another side of the problem VR faces: at first it's a fun gimmick, but after a few movies, it becomes something of a distraction, because your brain gets over the gee-whiz factor and begins to get annoyed at being fooled. It knows what's real and what isn't and it balks if you try to get it to accept what is, in effect, a sensory lie.
Another way of looking at it is it's fun to hit the amusement park once or twice a year, but you wouldn't want to crawl onto one every time you wanted to watch a show.
Voice recognition
Ya wanna know who are the only people who need voice recognition? People without arms, blind people, and the freakin Captain the Enterprise. That's it.
You don't speak like you write, so no one's going to dictate anything other than a memo. Even then, the cleanup would be bad enough that it'd be quicker just to type it.
I've written before about what it would be like to work in an office were voice recognition is the standard.
It's a nice option for those who need it; the rest of us will always prefer a mouse and a keyboard.
Zune
IF the subscription model allowed you to keep your the tunes you downloaded if you decided to stop subscribing, then there'd be no issue. But, you decide you don't want to pay - or can't - and POOF! All gone. Suck to be you.
That may work for cable or satellite TV reception, because we don't consume TV shows like we do music. Music, however, has always been something that's yours once you buy a copy.
I know. I know, the music biz REALLY tried to change that model, but look where they are now.
Music files with no copy protection (DRM - Digital Rights Management) are the model for the foreseeable future.
Sadly, I think I ruined a friendship over this. Someone wanted to just GIVE me a Zune for free, because apparently it does allow you to load non-DRM MP3's on it, but I said I just didn't want to support a business model I disagree with. Someone once told me that as far as the market's concerned, you vote with your dollar. So I don't give money to corporations whose actions or policies I disagree with, if it's at all possible. (You can take the hippy out of the 70s...)
Still, he was being generous, and I pretty much came off as a dick - me with my precious morals and everything. I forgot, at the time, that people matter before anything else, and I should've accepted it gratefully and just used it as a player.
Monday, June 01, 2009
Recent Flick Viewage
Frost / Nixon
I actually convinced my eldest, who's 12 ∧ 1/2 (since she can't wait to be 13, with the "teen" on the end there, she makes a point to always add "1/2" to her age when asked by anyone), to give this one a try, and she did because she couldn't think of anything better to do. Now it has become the standard-bearer for her on which movies to avoid, e.g. "Dad, this isn't like that Frost / Nixon thing, is it?"
I, however, really enjoyed it. Much more than I thought I would.
But then I was alive at the time and remember hating Nixon (think of how Boris Karloff says, "The Grinch stood there, hating the Who's" to get the right tone). I actually have some respect for the poor bastard now, and think that if he hadn't turned a particular corner in arrogance and insanity (and had run with a better crowd), he'd go down in history as a pretty decent pres. But, no chance of that. He'll always be the crook. And all of his crook cronies coming back during Bush II and doing pretty much the same thing just proved the vileness of that approach to governance all over again.
I didn't realize that these interviews were the first ones where Nixon admitted he did something wrong. I read a later interview(s) somewhere where he really did cop to most of what he did, so I was unaware that this was the first time someone got him to crack.
Watching Frost get himself prepared for the event, and the politics, intrigue, and power games that swirled around the whole mess, are mesmerizing. It may be a function of my age, though. I've witnessed - or been involved in (sadly) - a lot of the kind of things you see in Frost / Nixon. So it's ugly fun to see that it goes on everywhere, and always has.
It's really too bad the movie is inherently boring for the young and/or those who weren't there (assuming, here). When kids are in a hurry to grow up and think it's all skittles and beer, this would be a great movie to show them about how parts of the adult world play out and what makes them suck so much. Not that you'd want to discourage them. Maybe just show it as a warning, so they can brace themselves.
---------------
Update:
Nearly forgot - make sure you check out the video of the actual interview on the DVD. It's interesting to see how the writer deviated from what was really said, but still stayed within the bounds of what was conveyed.
My Best Friends Girl
This movie made me laugh really hard.
There is one scene of dialogue where a man and woman trade insults so creatively obscene, I laughed harder as each one zinged past. It has one of the best puke jokes, EVAR, too.
But beyond that I don't want to give away any of the plot, because discovering the shtick is half the fun.
The ending is predictable, but the ending of romantic comedies have been since Shakespeare, so: so what.
One proviso: this is a VERY adult movie. Even kids savvy about sex shouldn't really watch this one until they're about 16 or so.
Role Models
Like My Best Friends Girl, this is an R-rated comedy that has the uncut original version as an option on the DVD (and thus the only way to go with adult comedies, imvho). Unlike the above, though, this one is actually not all that foul, and is even sorta tender-hearted.
The premise is two guys end up doing community service and get specifically assigned to a Big Brother program. Since they are faced with either doing the community service or going to jail for a month, they get stuck with the kids no one else wants. Hilarity ensues.
I'd let anyone 14 or above watch this (unless they're specifically sensitive about dick jokes). There's one brief shot of breasts, but surprisingly it's not a gratuitous flash. Other than that, it's just bad, bad language.
So, for the first time in a while, I like all the flicks included in a post. Hooray.
Frost / Nixon
I actually convinced my eldest, who's 12 ∧ 1/2 (since she can't wait to be 13, with the "teen" on the end there, she makes a point to always add "1/2" to her age when asked by anyone), to give this one a try, and she did because she couldn't think of anything better to do. Now it has become the standard-bearer for her on which movies to avoid, e.g. "Dad, this isn't like that Frost / Nixon thing, is it?"
I, however, really enjoyed it. Much more than I thought I would.
But then I was alive at the time and remember hating Nixon (think of how Boris Karloff says, "The Grinch stood there, hating the Who's" to get the right tone). I actually have some respect for the poor bastard now, and think that if he hadn't turned a particular corner in arrogance and insanity (and had run with a better crowd), he'd go down in history as a pretty decent pres. But, no chance of that. He'll always be the crook. And all of his crook cronies coming back during Bush II and doing pretty much the same thing just proved the vileness of that approach to governance all over again.
I didn't realize that these interviews were the first ones where Nixon admitted he did something wrong. I read a later interview(s) somewhere where he really did cop to most of what he did, so I was unaware that this was the first time someone got him to crack.
Watching Frost get himself prepared for the event, and the politics, intrigue, and power games that swirled around the whole mess, are mesmerizing. It may be a function of my age, though. I've witnessed - or been involved in (sadly) - a lot of the kind of things you see in Frost / Nixon. So it's ugly fun to see that it goes on everywhere, and always has.
It's really too bad the movie is inherently boring for the young and/or those who weren't there (assuming, here). When kids are in a hurry to grow up and think it's all skittles and beer, this would be a great movie to show them about how parts of the adult world play out and what makes them suck so much. Not that you'd want to discourage them. Maybe just show it as a warning, so they can brace themselves.
---------------
Update:
Nearly forgot - make sure you check out the video of the actual interview on the DVD. It's interesting to see how the writer deviated from what was really said, but still stayed within the bounds of what was conveyed.
My Best Friends Girl
This movie made me laugh really hard.
There is one scene of dialogue where a man and woman trade insults so creatively obscene, I laughed harder as each one zinged past. It has one of the best puke jokes, EVAR, too.
But beyond that I don't want to give away any of the plot, because discovering the shtick is half the fun.
The ending is predictable, but the ending of romantic comedies have been since Shakespeare, so: so what.
One proviso: this is a VERY adult movie. Even kids savvy about sex shouldn't really watch this one until they're about 16 or so.
Role Models
Like My Best Friends Girl, this is an R-rated comedy that has the uncut original version as an option on the DVD (and thus the only way to go with adult comedies, imvho). Unlike the above, though, this one is actually not all that foul, and is even sorta tender-hearted.
The premise is two guys end up doing community service and get specifically assigned to a Big Brother program. Since they are faced with either doing the community service or going to jail for a month, they get stuck with the kids no one else wants. Hilarity ensues.
I'd let anyone 14 or above watch this (unless they're specifically sensitive about dick jokes). There's one brief shot of breasts, but surprisingly it's not a gratuitous flash. Other than that, it's just bad, bad language.
So, for the first time in a while, I like all the flicks included in a post. Hooray.
The writing phenom that is Heather Armstrong
So, I ended up reading Things I Learned About My Dad: Humorous and Heartfelt Essays, edited by the creator of www.dooce.com and It Sucked and Then I Cried: How I Had a Baby, a Breakdown, and a Much Needed Margarita back to back because that's when they happened to arrive at the library. (My local library has an on-line Netflix-like queue where you can put your requests on a list and they notify you when they come in.)
There's just no point it trying to be florid about it, Heather Armstrong is one hell of a writer. As with all brilliant stylists, she has a couple verbal tics that not only define her, but they force you into the column of "love it" or "hate it". If you're not familiar, read a few posts on her site, and you'll discover your column. (I usta link to her site in my "other blogs" sidebar, but that's like the flea referencing the dog.)
"Things I Learned About My Father" - which was edited by Heather, but includes material from other bloggers - has exactly three great essays in it, and two of them are by Heather. The other is the very first one, written by Kevin Guilfoile. Others are ok, but only those three stand out. It's worth your time if you're a parent and want a nice commiseration read. Everyone else should go see the new Star Trek movie.
"It Sucked" is all new original material, save for the letters to her daughter (I didn't check but I think those are culled from her site). If you're a fan, you'll want to read this, because it's another-side-of-the-story events you're already aware of because she's blogged about them.
One revelation for me was she would catch her husband, Jon, crying (when he thought she was asleep) during the time she was dealing with a crushing post-partum depression which culminated in a visit to a mental ward. At the time, I remember wondering how he was faring. Myself, I find I suffer more when my wife and/or kids are sick or suffering than when I am.
I started this post, gad, maybe a month ago now, and life just keeps getting in the way (a good thing mostly, of course, but today it included sick family, a toilet leak that has destroyed the ceiling in the living room, fires to put out at work, and I didn't sleep last night due to the sick child and other mitigating factors ... to top it all off, we have fire alarms that have battery backup and when the battery starts to fail, it does this little beep thing that is acoustically evil in that it takes at least an hour to figure out which one's doing it), so in the meantime, I've been scooped by Kottke.org and his link to another classic Dooce post, which is a great place to start if you want to see if you want to bother reading her books (assuming you don't already read her). And I've mentioned it before, but she also has the best fart story ever, thus far.
So, I ended up reading Things I Learned About My Dad: Humorous and Heartfelt Essays, edited by the creator of www.dooce.com and It Sucked and Then I Cried: How I Had a Baby, a Breakdown, and a Much Needed Margarita back to back because that's when they happened to arrive at the library. (My local library has an on-line Netflix-like queue where you can put your requests on a list and they notify you when they come in.)
There's just no point it trying to be florid about it, Heather Armstrong is one hell of a writer. As with all brilliant stylists, she has a couple verbal tics that not only define her, but they force you into the column of "love it" or "hate it". If you're not familiar, read a few posts on her site, and you'll discover your column. (I usta link to her site in my "other blogs" sidebar, but that's like the flea referencing the dog.)
"Things I Learned About My Father" - which was edited by Heather, but includes material from other bloggers - has exactly three great essays in it, and two of them are by Heather. The other is the very first one, written by Kevin Guilfoile. Others are ok, but only those three stand out. It's worth your time if you're a parent and want a nice commiseration read. Everyone else should go see the new Star Trek movie.
"It Sucked" is all new original material, save for the letters to her daughter (I didn't check but I think those are culled from her site). If you're a fan, you'll want to read this, because it's another-side-of-the-story events you're already aware of because she's blogged about them.
One revelation for me was she would catch her husband, Jon, crying (when he thought she was asleep) during the time she was dealing with a crushing post-partum depression which culminated in a visit to a mental ward. At the time, I remember wondering how he was faring. Myself, I find I suffer more when my wife and/or kids are sick or suffering than when I am.
I started this post, gad, maybe a month ago now, and life just keeps getting in the way (a good thing mostly, of course, but today it included sick family, a toilet leak that has destroyed the ceiling in the living room, fires to put out at work, and I didn't sleep last night due to the sick child and other mitigating factors ... to top it all off, we have fire alarms that have battery backup and when the battery starts to fail, it does this little beep thing that is acoustically evil in that it takes at least an hour to figure out which one's doing it), so in the meantime, I've been scooped by Kottke.org and his link to another classic Dooce post, which is a great place to start if you want to see if you want to bother reading her books (assuming you don't already read her). And I've mentioned it before, but she also has the best fart story ever, thus far.
Monday, May 25, 2009
Have a Ball
The Ball family has immersed themselves in glory with this video from their wedding. Upon my first viewing, as he began to lip-sync, I must admit to dreary thoughts, but when the whole wedding party joins in and it's wonderful.
Here's the direct link:
http://vimeo.com/1531870?pg=embed&sec=
I found this on the great Attu Sees All, but reposted it here in case you can't go to Attu's site at work (and I wouldn't where they monitor your internet use, some stuff is NSFW).
And I stole the title from myself from a page from my ancient vanity site where I thought I was being cute (and it's NSFW, again). I still thank God that the internets weren't around before I turned 30. When reminiscing, I sometimes find myself embarrassed over the things that could've possibly ended up on the web had it been around when I was a pup.
The Ball family has immersed themselves in glory with this video from their wedding. Upon my first viewing, as he began to lip-sync, I must admit to dreary thoughts, but when the whole wedding party joins in and it's wonderful.
Brian & Eileen's Wedding Music Video. from LOCKDOWN projects on Vimeo.
Here's the direct link:
http://vimeo.com/1531870?pg=embed&sec=
I found this on the great Attu Sees All, but reposted it here in case you can't go to Attu's site at work (and I wouldn't where they monitor your internet use, some stuff is NSFW).
And I stole the title from myself from a page from my ancient vanity site where I thought I was being cute (and it's NSFW, again). I still thank God that the internets weren't around before I turned 30. When reminiscing, I sometimes find myself embarrassed over the things that could've possibly ended up on the web had it been around when I was a pup.
Thursday, May 14, 2009
Greed Kills
As I have been (casually) following the news about the crash of Continental Flight 3407 on Feb. 12, I accepted on face value the general media consensus that it was most likely due to the inexperience of the pilots, and for the most part I think that's correct.
For example, the pilot had not been trained about what to do in a stall and what the signs were in that particular aircraft. The co-pilot apparently hadn't ever seen icing on wings in flight before.
But, when I heard about the pay the co-pilot was getting, the fact that she was sick, AND the circumstances of her employment with the airline, it was clear this was just an accident waiting to happen.
Back when I worked for a puddle-jumper airline, I was shocked when I found out how hard they worked the pilots and how little rest they were allowed between flights. On the amount of sleep they sometimes got - after being on shift for quite a few days on end - you wouldn't want these folks to pop open a twist-off beer for ya, let alone rocket your ass into the frozen, wind-torn sky in a plastic bottle fitted with wings and half-filled with explosive fuel.
When you put someone in that kind of a circumstance, pay them poorly, train them even worse, and expose them to schedules and working conditions that are essentially illegal in the manufacturing sector, it's bound to result in exactly what happened. Someone like an airline pilot should be aggressively groomed and trained, not treated like a temp whose primary duty is filing, where only fingers and a basic grasp of the alphabet are required.
From this article (read the whole thing, it's gripping), here are part of the details of how the co-pilot was paid and what her conditions were:
So, after handing folks their freakin' Venti's for a shift or two, she'd sleep on a chair in the pilot's lounge or on a plane, and then grab the controls of a FREAKIN' JET.
Dear God.
There are going to be a lot of corporate executives in hell, methinks.
As I have been (casually) following the news about the crash of Continental Flight 3407 on Feb. 12, I accepted on face value the general media consensus that it was most likely due to the inexperience of the pilots, and for the most part I think that's correct.
For example, the pilot had not been trained about what to do in a stall and what the signs were in that particular aircraft. The co-pilot apparently hadn't ever seen icing on wings in flight before.
But, when I heard about the pay the co-pilot was getting, the fact that she was sick, AND the circumstances of her employment with the airline, it was clear this was just an accident waiting to happen.
Back when I worked for a puddle-jumper airline, I was shocked when I found out how hard they worked the pilots and how little rest they were allowed between flights. On the amount of sleep they sometimes got - after being on shift for quite a few days on end - you wouldn't want these folks to pop open a twist-off beer for ya, let alone rocket your ass into the frozen, wind-torn sky in a plastic bottle fitted with wings and half-filled with explosive fuel.
When you put someone in that kind of a circumstance, pay them poorly, train them even worse, and expose them to schedules and working conditions that are essentially illegal in the manufacturing sector, it's bound to result in exactly what happened. Someone like an airline pilot should be aggressively groomed and trained, not treated like a temp whose primary duty is filing, where only fingers and a basic grasp of the alphabet are required.
From this article (read the whole thing, it's gripping), here are part of the details of how the co-pilot was paid and what her conditions were:
Shaw, 24, flew 774 hours in her first year at Colgan. Roger Cox, a safety board aviation safety expert, said she earned $21 an hour, meaning that she would have been paid about $16,254 that year. As a result, Shaw worked a second job in a Norfolk, Va., coffee shop when she started at Colgan, safety board witnesses said.
So, after handing folks their freakin' Venti's for a shift or two, she'd sleep on a chair in the pilot's lounge or on a plane, and then grab the controls of a FREAKIN' JET.
Dear God.
There are going to be a lot of corporate executives in hell, methinks.
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
Obligatory Review of the new Star Trek movie
Punchline: I had a grand time, as did my 12-year-old daughter (full disclosure: she's a fan of the original series). A hearty recommendation for fans, and a solid recommendation for newbies or folks who haven't liked any of the TV shows (particularly the latter shows).
Finally finally finally they have realized Star Trek is much better when it has a pair. A big pair. (I half expected the Enterprise to be sporting these, a tacky little trend that hopefully will be a short one.) And some hot green chicks, to boot.
The nicest surprise is that Sulu turns out to be a badass. Fans will recall that from the original show the episode where everyone gets wasted on an alien virus and Sulu ends up darting around the halls shirtless, challenging everyone to a fencing battle. Non-fans will enjoy things a bit more knowing that bit of history, and let's leave it at that.
My daughter's verdict, besides being the best movie she's seen this year (wow, huh?) was that they did a great job of casting. And they did.
Sulu is my favorite casting choice, as they used John Cho from the Harold & Kumar movies, and, as mentioned, he freakin' BRINGS IT. My next two faves are Karl Urban as Bones (he nails it while bringing the character freshness) and of course Simon Pegg as Scotty.
Kirk and Spock are cast wonderfully, too, though a few times you catch Zachary Quinto (Spock) being just a bit too doe-eyed for the Spock we know and love - but then it's actually a plot/character point, so even that works eventually.
J.J. Abrams was handed the keys to the kingdom, and admitted that he was not a trekkie, which was probably a saving grace. He clearly did his homework and was able to come to this without the nostalgic emotional haze original fans had, and so did not try to recreate that. His grokking of the series is so complete, I think he even included Galaxy Quest in his research, because there's a couple tips of the hat to that movie, too.
I can't say "my only quibble" because I don't really have one, if you follow Ebert's old rule of reviewing the movie you saw, not the one you wanted to see. If we step out of that restriction, my one wish is that Chris Pine (Kirk) had just once found a way to do Shatner's famous verbal tick when he was trying to remember a line where he would ... pause … before … rushing out the rest of the line. Maybe he's saving that for the next one.
And, oh yes, there will be a next one. They do manage to reboot the series in a way where they can do new adventures without having to betray anything that occurred in the original.
Punchline: I had a grand time, as did my 12-year-old daughter (full disclosure: she's a fan of the original series). A hearty recommendation for fans, and a solid recommendation for newbies or folks who haven't liked any of the TV shows (particularly the latter shows).
Finally finally finally they have realized Star Trek is much better when it has a pair. A big pair. (I half expected the Enterprise to be sporting these, a tacky little trend that hopefully will be a short one.) And some hot green chicks, to boot.
The nicest surprise is that Sulu turns out to be a badass. Fans will recall that from the original show the episode where everyone gets wasted on an alien virus and Sulu ends up darting around the halls shirtless, challenging everyone to a fencing battle. Non-fans will enjoy things a bit more knowing that bit of history, and let's leave it at that.
My daughter's verdict, besides being the best movie she's seen this year (wow, huh?) was that they did a great job of casting. And they did.
Sulu is my favorite casting choice, as they used John Cho from the Harold & Kumar movies, and, as mentioned, he freakin' BRINGS IT. My next two faves are Karl Urban as Bones (he nails it while bringing the character freshness) and of course Simon Pegg as Scotty.
Kirk and Spock are cast wonderfully, too, though a few times you catch Zachary Quinto (Spock) being just a bit too doe-eyed for the Spock we know and love - but then it's actually a plot/character point, so even that works eventually.
J.J. Abrams was handed the keys to the kingdom, and admitted that he was not a trekkie, which was probably a saving grace. He clearly did his homework and was able to come to this without the nostalgic emotional haze original fans had, and so did not try to recreate that. His grokking of the series is so complete, I think he even included Galaxy Quest in his research, because there's a couple tips of the hat to that movie, too.
I can't say "my only quibble" because I don't really have one, if you follow Ebert's old rule of reviewing the movie you saw, not the one you wanted to see. If we step out of that restriction, my one wish is that Chris Pine (Kirk) had just once found a way to do Shatner's famous verbal tick when he was trying to remember a line where he would ... pause … before … rushing out the rest of the line. Maybe he's saving that for the next one.
And, oh yes, there will be a next one. They do manage to reboot the series in a way where they can do new adventures without having to betray anything that occurred in the original.
Saturday, May 09, 2009
Aaaargh.
So who were the marketing geniuses in each studio who felt is was a good idea to release their big sci-fi film at the same time everyone else did. And on mother's day weekend no less?
This weekend we have the new "X-men", "Terminator", and "Star Trek" all opening, and there's "Angels & Demons" plus the sequel to "Night at the Museum." In the age where movies stay in the theatres for two weeks, tops.
Da fork?
--------------
Update:
Turns out, I wasn't looking at the DATES of the ticket sales. When I went to the site I have for a while to find out movie times (because if you call the theatre for them, you're in for a 15 minute ride through menus before you know a movie time, and that's if you get the options right), I did not realize that you can now buy tickets for movies weeks in advance. And, the date of the show is listen in parenthesis, so it's easy to miss it's for a couple weeks out.
Frinstance:
Fri (5/22) ( 11:50 ) ( 2:00 ) 4:40 7:30 10:20
See the date in there? Well, I didn't when I was in a hurry and was skating past all the other crap they put in your way on commercial sites.
So, the only movie I did care about seeing was the only one playing.
{{sigh}}
So who were the marketing geniuses in each studio who felt is was a good idea to release their big sci-fi film at the same time everyone else did. And on mother's day weekend no less?
This weekend we have the new "X-men", "Terminator", and "Star Trek" all opening, and there's "Angels & Demons" plus the sequel to "Night at the Museum." In the age where movies stay in the theatres for two weeks, tops.
Da fork?
--------------
Update:
Turns out, I wasn't looking at the DATES of the ticket sales. When I went to the site I have for a while to find out movie times (because if you call the theatre for them, you're in for a 15 minute ride through menus before you know a movie time, and that's if you get the options right), I did not realize that you can now buy tickets for movies weeks in advance. And, the date of the show is listen in parenthesis, so it's easy to miss it's for a couple weeks out.
Frinstance:
Fri (5/22) ( 11:50 ) ( 2:00 ) 4:40 7:30 10:20
See the date in there? Well, I didn't when I was in a hurry and was skating past all the other crap they put in your way on commercial sites.
So, the only movie I did care about seeing was the only one playing.
{{sigh}}
Thursday, May 07, 2009
You can't make this stuff up...
Flaming Lips song 'Do You Realize??' name Oklahoma state song despite controversy over T-shirt
Why do Republicans have such a hard time with the whole freedom of speech thing? Unless of course it's used to justify the utter BS that Faux News spews.
Flaming Lips song 'Do You Realize??' name Oklahoma state song despite controversy over T-shirt
Why do Republicans have such a hard time with the whole freedom of speech thing? Unless of course it's used to justify the utter BS that Faux News spews.
Tuesday, May 05, 2009
We haven't bashed in a while
[For those of you who haven't encountered a post like this, I read bash.org where things spontaneously "said" on IRC chat are gathered and voted on so the cream goes to the top, and then I put my favorites here for a quick and lazy post.]
#879548
ipatchphd: i knew someone named april may
IUErothyme: hahahahahaha
ipatchphd: and when her mom was angry shed say
ipatchphd: YOU BETTER MARCH APRIL MAY
#875691
ditte: my parents had a girl about my age
ditte: omg
#879056
kaber: My buddy just got a divorce. they had 4 kids. she met some new guy and she thinks she'll have it better with him
kaber: so the women leave thinking it's greener on the other side and what not.. and they usually end up getting shafted even more
tomalak: kaber: I think that's the point.
#877811
Spiff-Johnson: So i bought a shirt from express men.. does that make me gay?
cool4dude: no, the fact that you have sex with men makes you gay
cool4dude: the shirt just makes you a stereotype
#879746
Dun fck wit meh: when muslim women come to my door i talk to them through the mail slot, see how they like it
#875655
rizerz: A Japanese doctor said, 'Medicine in my country is so advanced that we
rizerz: can take a kidney out of one man, put it in another, and have him
rizerz: looking for work in six weeks.'
rizerz: A German doctor said, 'That's nothing, we can take a lung out of one
rizerz: person, put it in another, and have him looking for work in four weeks.'
rizerz: A British doctor said, 'In my country, medicine is so advanced that we
rizerz: can take half of a heart out of one person, put it in another, and have
rizerz: them both looking for work in two weeks.'
rizerz: A Texas doctor, not to be outdone said, 'You guys are way behind. We
rizerz: took a man with no brains out of Texas , put him in the White House, and
rizerz: now half the country is looking for work.
#880444
PROTOtype2k6: Hey Fel you know the difference between Michael phelps and Hitler?
Felathan: no clue proto.
PROTOtype2k6: At least Michael Phelps could finish a race.
[Note: this last one makes me cringe it's so evil, but I did laugh. It joins the pantheon of the other joke I won't tell at a party unless I totally warn everyone first, thus kneecapping the joke.]
[For those of you who haven't encountered a post like this, I read bash.org where things spontaneously "said" on IRC chat are gathered and voted on so the cream goes to the top, and then I put my favorites here for a quick and lazy post.]
#879548
ipatchphd: i knew someone named april may
IUErothyme: hahahahahaha
ipatchphd: and when her mom was angry shed say
ipatchphd: YOU BETTER MARCH APRIL MAY
#875691
ditte: my parents had a girl about my age
ditte: omg
#879056
kaber: My buddy just got a divorce. they had 4 kids. she met some new guy and she thinks she'll have it better with him
kaber: so the women leave thinking it's greener on the other side and what not.. and they usually end up getting shafted even more
tomalak: kaber: I think that's the point.
#877811
Spiff-Johnson: So i bought a shirt from express men.. does that make me gay?
cool4dude: no, the fact that you have sex with men makes you gay
cool4dude: the shirt just makes you a stereotype
#879746
Dun fck wit meh: when muslim women come to my door i talk to them through the mail slot, see how they like it
#875655
rizerz: A Japanese doctor said, 'Medicine in my country is so advanced that we
rizerz: can take a kidney out of one man, put it in another, and have him
rizerz: looking for work in six weeks.'
rizerz: A German doctor said, 'That's nothing, we can take a lung out of one
rizerz: person, put it in another, and have him looking for work in four weeks.'
rizerz: A British doctor said, 'In my country, medicine is so advanced that we
rizerz: can take half of a heart out of one person, put it in another, and have
rizerz: them both looking for work in two weeks.'
rizerz: A Texas doctor, not to be outdone said, 'You guys are way behind. We
rizerz: took a man with no brains out of Texas , put him in the White House, and
rizerz: now half the country is looking for work.
#880444
PROTOtype2k6: Hey Fel you know the difference between Michael phelps and Hitler?
Felathan: no clue proto.
PROTOtype2k6: At least Michael Phelps could finish a race.
[Note: this last one makes me cringe it's so evil, but I did laugh. It joins the pantheon of the other joke I won't tell at a party unless I totally warn everyone first, thus kneecapping the joke.]
Friday, May 01, 2009
6 Writers Who Accidentally Crapped Out Masterpieces
(Not my title, read on...)
I've pointed to Cracked.com a lot, because they're one of the funniest sites on the web, according to me.
I think they've produced another personal best:
6 Writers Who Accidentally Crapped Out Masterpieces
The entry on Clockwork Orange is my fave.
Enjoy.
(Not my title, read on...)
I've pointed to Cracked.com a lot, because they're one of the funniest sites on the web, according to me.
I think they've produced another personal best:
6 Writers Who Accidentally Crapped Out Masterpieces
The entry on Clockwork Orange is my fave.
Enjoy.
Ephemera, May Day 2009
One of the things I've noticed about blogging is that you rather constantly have a little daemon in the back of your mind collecting things for the blog.
The following are bits and pieces of planned posts that I never got around to writing, and thus only the highlights remain in my brain. Which is actually a good thing, because you're getting the "good parts" version (with a tip of the cursor to the great William Goldman).
I recently went to a conference and noted many things that I intended to report, but only two have stuck:
- I saw a paraplegic in a wheelchair wearing a t-shirt that said "Stimulus Package" followed by a large arrow pointing at his crotch. So, I wondered if he was being ironic or not...
- The elevators had big, prominent signs (which were just standard 8 1/2 by 11" typewriter paper printed from a laserprinter) by the buttons that stated a capacity of 8 people, warning that the elevators would get stuck if that was exceeded. Inside, the elevators had professionally manufactured signs stating a capacity of 10, and without the dire warning of getting stuck. So, one day I'm getting on the elevator, and one attendee who was VERY OUT was riding down, and I asked him, "why do you suppose the limit signs outside say 8 and the ones in here say 10?" And he said in that cliché effeminate gay accent, "Because everyone's gotten so fat!" The response was funny in and of itself, but the delivery is what really sold the line. I laughed for half the day on that one.
My wife and I watched the final episode of ER (a few weeks ago, now) and were sadly appalled that the show had gotten even worse since the time we abandoned it. We barely made it to the end. They did a little retrospective show before the episode, and it wasn't obvious to someone who hadn't been watching for a while, but nearly all the snippets they played were from the first few seasons, and when the show proper started, the contrast was so stark I was embarrassed for those who now ran the show.
I actually had an index card filled out with all the subplots, and I was gonna lay them out here to expose their patheticness (patheticality?).
Anyway, in a nutshell, the overall theme was every patient who was part of a family lost a member of that family in particularly harsh ways (mom dies during delivery, old man unexpectedly and suddenly loses his wife to old age, etc.), with the sole exception being the (obligatory) gay couple.
A gay guy comes in because he feels weird and they discover he has a brain tumor. When his boyfriend/husband shows up, there's this overly sweet scene where they talk about what a wonderful life they've had and how they'll enjoy the last year or so they have with each other until he finally is taken out by the tumor (effusive lens filters are used, palette tones warm, violins swell). We also discover that he was one of the original patients diagnosed with AIDs and has managed to live all this time. Short version: gay = good happy life; anyone else = you're fucked, cope.
Good riddance to that show. (Though it looks as though they put an equally overwrought police show in its place; and they took care to announce it was created and produced by the same team that has brought us ER the last few years. I do appreciate that told us it would suck so I didn't have to waste my time checking it out.)
Read this book on Christianity called The Blue Parakeet, which I picked up blindly. A few pages in I was groaning inwardly because he was dividing us all up into bible-believing Christians and liberal Christians. Then he started talking to his fundie brethren about how they were not living up to the letter of the Bible no matter how much they thought they were, spends a few chapters proving that (which were kinda fun), and then talks about how they need to use Discernment and realize that they need to apply the Bible and its story to our age rather than try to pretend to live in a different Christian era. To which anyone who's not a fundie would answer: well, duh.
So, while it was mostly just entertainment for me (meaning I didn't really learn anything or get detect a point of view I wasn't aware of) watching someone fundie come to the realization that it's about love and the message is contained in the narrative (what he labeled as "the story") rather than viewing the Bible like a bunch of Chinese cookie fortunes that you can apply at will and out of context to whatever situation, the main impression I came away with was the author was a phenomenal asshole. It just bleeds out of his writing style and various attempts at humor. Even the back cover photo fills one with mild, free-floating loathing. I haven't had many experiences outside of reading some wingnut polemic where you could just feel what a creep the author (perhaps) is. (I hope the author never does a vanity search and lands here. If so, my apologies.)
Update: Sorry if this comes off a little harsh. I was apparently in a mood when I wrote this.
Speaking of assholes...
I rarely write about work, particularly in a negative sense, because typically it's not wise. Just hunt up "dooced" on the internets.
But I'm so amused with my little joke I just have to share.
One of the folks we work with is an utter SOB. Every single interaction with said SOB is unpleasant. I would posit that if you were to sum up the total amount of time people talk about what this person has done lately and basically conjugating on what a bastard s/he is, you'd have a solid 8 hours. I've read several books on how to make your organization one of the bestest, shiniest, efficient and overall wonderful places to work, and all of them say identify these people and show them the door. In this case, it will never happen. (It's a long story, and I'd have to give away too many details.)
Anyway, one of the code/secret references I've invented for describing events and interactions with this lovely human being is: "A Sleeping Beauty Moment."
It came about like this: I was talking to someone about a recent run-in and I said, "Afterwards, I had the exact same thought pass through my mind that went through Sleeping Beauty's as she fell into her hundred-year sleep ... 'Wow, what a prick!'"
One of the things I've noticed about blogging is that you rather constantly have a little daemon in the back of your mind collecting things for the blog.
The following are bits and pieces of planned posts that I never got around to writing, and thus only the highlights remain in my brain. Which is actually a good thing, because you're getting the "good parts" version (with a tip of the cursor to the great William Goldman).
I recently went to a conference and noted many things that I intended to report, but only two have stuck:
- I saw a paraplegic in a wheelchair wearing a t-shirt that said "Stimulus Package" followed by a large arrow pointing at his crotch. So, I wondered if he was being ironic or not...
- The elevators had big, prominent signs (which were just standard 8 1/2 by 11" typewriter paper printed from a laserprinter) by the buttons that stated a capacity of 8 people, warning that the elevators would get stuck if that was exceeded. Inside, the elevators had professionally manufactured signs stating a capacity of 10, and without the dire warning of getting stuck. So, one day I'm getting on the elevator, and one attendee who was VERY OUT was riding down, and I asked him, "why do you suppose the limit signs outside say 8 and the ones in here say 10?" And he said in that cliché effeminate gay accent, "Because everyone's gotten so fat!" The response was funny in and of itself, but the delivery is what really sold the line. I laughed for half the day on that one.
My wife and I watched the final episode of ER (a few weeks ago, now) and were sadly appalled that the show had gotten even worse since the time we abandoned it. We barely made it to the end. They did a little retrospective show before the episode, and it wasn't obvious to someone who hadn't been watching for a while, but nearly all the snippets they played were from the first few seasons, and when the show proper started, the contrast was so stark I was embarrassed for those who now ran the show.
I actually had an index card filled out with all the subplots, and I was gonna lay them out here to expose their patheticness (patheticality?).
Anyway, in a nutshell, the overall theme was every patient who was part of a family lost a member of that family in particularly harsh ways (mom dies during delivery, old man unexpectedly and suddenly loses his wife to old age, etc.), with the sole exception being the (obligatory) gay couple.
A gay guy comes in because he feels weird and they discover he has a brain tumor. When his boyfriend/husband shows up, there's this overly sweet scene where they talk about what a wonderful life they've had and how they'll enjoy the last year or so they have with each other until he finally is taken out by the tumor (effusive lens filters are used, palette tones warm, violins swell). We also discover that he was one of the original patients diagnosed with AIDs and has managed to live all this time. Short version: gay = good happy life; anyone else = you're fucked, cope.
Good riddance to that show. (Though it looks as though they put an equally overwrought police show in its place; and they took care to announce it was created and produced by the same team that has brought us ER the last few years. I do appreciate that told us it would suck so I didn't have to waste my time checking it out.)
Read this book on Christianity called The Blue Parakeet, which I picked up blindly. A few pages in I was groaning inwardly because he was dividing us all up into bible-believing Christians and liberal Christians. Then he started talking to his fundie brethren about how they were not living up to the letter of the Bible no matter how much they thought they were, spends a few chapters proving that (which were kinda fun), and then talks about how they need to use Discernment and realize that they need to apply the Bible and its story to our age rather than try to pretend to live in a different Christian era. To which anyone who's not a fundie would answer: well, duh.
So, while it was mostly just entertainment for me (meaning I didn't really learn anything or get detect a point of view I wasn't aware of) watching someone fundie come to the realization that it's about love and the message is contained in the narrative (what he labeled as "the story") rather than viewing the Bible like a bunch of Chinese cookie fortunes that you can apply at will and out of context to whatever situation, the main impression I came away with was the author was a phenomenal asshole. It just bleeds out of his writing style and various attempts at humor. Even the back cover photo fills one with mild, free-floating loathing. I haven't had many experiences outside of reading some wingnut polemic where you could just feel what a creep the author (perhaps) is. (I hope the author never does a vanity search and lands here. If so, my apologies.)
Update: Sorry if this comes off a little harsh. I was apparently in a mood when I wrote this.
Speaking of assholes...
I rarely write about work, particularly in a negative sense, because typically it's not wise. Just hunt up "dooced" on the internets.
But I'm so amused with my little joke I just have to share.
One of the folks we work with is an utter SOB. Every single interaction with said SOB is unpleasant. I would posit that if you were to sum up the total amount of time people talk about what this person has done lately and basically conjugating on what a bastard s/he is, you'd have a solid 8 hours. I've read several books on how to make your organization one of the bestest, shiniest, efficient and overall wonderful places to work, and all of them say identify these people and show them the door. In this case, it will never happen. (It's a long story, and I'd have to give away too many details.)
Anyway, one of the code/secret references I've invented for describing events and interactions with this lovely human being is: "A Sleeping Beauty Moment."
It came about like this: I was talking to someone about a recent run-in and I said, "Afterwards, I had the exact same thought pass through my mind that went through Sleeping Beauty's as she fell into her hundred-year sleep ... 'Wow, what a prick!'"
Friday, April 17, 2009
After all this time, a treat
Since the tragic demise of David Foster Wallace, I’ve had it on my to-do list to type out one of my favorite sections of Infinite Jest where he walks through the enthusiastic adoption of videophones and the eventual abandonment of the same.
Besides being funny as hell, and probably true (if they ever do try to foist videophones on us), it’s a nice little examination of all the eddies and collateral damage caused by the adoption of new technology. (Think original IRC chat, message boards, and now Twitter. Or even blogs, ahem. Or, watch the vid in the post below.)
Without further ado:
- from Infinite Jest by David Foster Wallace
Since the tragic demise of David Foster Wallace, I’ve had it on my to-do list to type out one of my favorite sections of Infinite Jest where he walks through the enthusiastic adoption of videophones and the eventual abandonment of the same.
Besides being funny as hell, and probably true (if they ever do try to foist videophones on us), it’s a nice little examination of all the eddies and collateral damage caused by the adoption of new technology. (Think original IRC chat, message boards, and now Twitter. Or even blogs, ahem. Or, watch the vid in the post below.)
Without further ado:
WHY -- THOUGH IN THE EARLY DAYS OF INTERLACE'S INTERNETTED TELEPUTERS THAT OPERATED OFF LARGELY THE SAME FIBER-DIGITAL GRID AS THE PHONE COMPANIES, THE ADVENT OF VIDEO-TELEPHONING (A.K.A. 'VIDEOPHONY') ENJOYED AN INTERVAL OF HUGE CONSUMER POPULARITY -- CALLERS THRILLED AT THE IDEA OF PHONE-INTERFACING BOTH AURALLY AND FACIALLY (THE LITTLE FIRSTGENERATION PHONE-VIDEO CAMERAS BEING TOO CRUDE AND NARROW-APERTURED FOR ANYTHING MUCH MORE THAN FACIAL CLOSE-UPS) ON FIRST-GENERATION TELEPUTERS THAT AT THAT TIME WERE LITTLE MORE THAN HIGH-TECH TV SETS, THOUGH OF COURSE THEY HAD THAT LITTLE 'INTELLIGENT-AGENT' HOMUNCULAR ICON THAT WOULD APPEAR AT THE LOWER-RIGHT OF A BROADCAST/CABLE PROGRAM AND TELL YOU THE TIME AND TEMPERATURE OUTSIDE OR REMIND YOU TO TAKE YOUR BLOOD-PRESSURE MEDICATION OR ALERT YOU TO A PARTICULARLY COMPELLING ENTERTAINMENT-OPTION NOW COMING UP ON CHANNEL LIKE 491 OR SOMETHING, OR OF COURSE NOW ALERTING YOU TO AN INCOMING VIDEO-PHONE CALL AND THEN TAP-DANCING WITH A LITTLE ICONIC STRAW BOATER AND CANE JUST UNDER A MENU OF POSSIBLE OPTIONS FOR RESPONSE, AND CALLERS DID LOVE THEIR LITTLE HOMUNCULAR ICONS -- BUT WHY, WITHIN LIKE 16 MONTHS OR 5 SALES QUARTERS, THE TUMESCENT DEMAND CURVE FOR 'VIDEOPHONY' SUDDENLY COLLAPSED LIKE A KICKED TENT, SO THAT, BY THE YEAR OF THE DEPEND ADULT UNDERGARMENT, FEWER THAN 10% OF ALL PRIVATE TELEPHONE COMMUNICATIONS UTILIZED ANY VIDEO-IMAGE-FIBER DATA-TRANSFERS OR COINCIDENT PRODUCTS AND SERVICES, THE AVERAGE U.S. PHONE-USER DECIDING THAT S/HE ACTUALLY PREFERRED THE RETROGRADE OLD LOWTECH BELL-ERA VOICE-ONLY TELEPHONIC INTERFACE AFTER ALL, A PREFERENTIAL ABOUT-FACE THAT COST A GOOD MANY PRECIPITANT VIDEO-TELEPHONY-RELATED ENTREPRENEURS THEIR SHIRTS, PLUS DESTABILIZING TWO HIGHLY RESPECTED MUTUAL FUNDS THAT HAD GROUNDFLOORED HEAVILY IN VIDEO-PHONE TECHNOLOGY, AND VERY NEARLY WIPING OUT THE MARYLAND STATE EMPLOYEES' RETIREMENT SYSTEM'S FREDDIE-MAC FUND, A FUND WHOSE ADMINISTRATOR'S MISTRESS'S BROTHER HAD BEEN AN ALMOST MANICALLY PRECIPITANT VIDEO-PHONETECHNOLOGY ENTREPRENEUR ... AND BUT SO WHY THE ABRUPT CONSUMER RETREAT BACK TO GOOD OLD VOICEONLY TELEPHONING?
The answer, in a kind of trivalent nutshell, is: (1) emotional stress, (2) physical vanity, (3) a certain queer kind of self-obliterating logic in the microeconomics of consumer high-tech.
(1) It turned out that there was something terribly stressful about visual telephone interfaces that hadn't been stressful at all about voice-only interfaces. Videophone consumers seemed suddenly to realize that they'd been subject to an insidious but wholly marvelous delusion about conventional voice-only telephony. They'd never noticed it before, the delusion -- it's like it was so emotionally complex that it could be countenanced only in the context of its loss. Good old traditional audio-only phone conversations allowed you to presume that the person on the other end was paying complete attention to you while also permitting you not to have to pay anything even close to complete attention to her. A traditional aural-only conversation -- utilizing a hand-held phone whose earpiece contained only 6 little pinholes but whose mouthpiece (rather significantly, it later seemed) contained (62) or 36 little pinholes -- let you enter a kind of highway-hypnotic semi-attentive fugue: while conversing, you could look around the room, doodle, fine-groom, peel tiny bits of dead skin away from your cuticles, compose phone-pad haiku, stir things on the stove; you could even carryon a whole separate additional sign-language-and-exaggerated-facial-expression type of conversation with people right there in the room with you, all while seeming to be right there attending closely to the voice on the phone. And yet -- and this was the retrospectively marvelous part -- even as you were dividing your attention between the phone call and all sorts of other idle little fuguelike activities, you were somehow never haunted by the suspicion that the person on the other end's attention might be similarly divided. During a traditional call, e.g., as you let's say performed a close tactile blemish-scan of your chi n, you were in no way oppressed by the thought that your phonemate was perhaps also devoting a good percentage of her attention to a close tactile blemish-scan. It was an illusion and the illusion was aural and aurally supported: the phone-line's other end's voice was dense, tightly compressed, and vectored right into your ear, enabling you to imagine that the voice's owner's attention was similarly compressed and focused ... even though your own attention was not, was the thing. This bilateral illusion of unilateral attention was almost infantilely gratifying from an emotional standpoint: you got to believe you were receiving somebody's complete attention without having to return it. Regarded with the objectivity of hindsight, the illusion appears arational, almost literally fantastic: it would be like being able both to lie and to trust other people at the same time.
Video telephony rendered the fantasy insupportable. Callers now found they had to compose the same sort of earnest, slightly overintense listener's expression they had to compose for in-person exchanges. Those callers who out of unconscious habit succumbed to fuguelike doodling or pants-crease-adjustment now came off looking rude, absentminded, or childishly self-absorbed. Callers who even more unconsciously blemish-scanned or nostril-explored looked up to find horrified expressions on the video-faces at the other end. All of which resulted in videophonic stress.
Even worse, of course, was the traumatic expulsion-from-Eden feeling of looking up from tracing your thumb's outline on the Reminder Pad or adjusting the old Unit's angle of repose in your shorts and actually seeing your videophonic interfacee idly strip a shoelace of its gumlet as she talked to you, and suddenly realizing your whole infantile fantasy of commanding your partner's attention while you yourself got to fugue-doodle and make little genital-adjustments was deluded and insupportable and that you were actually commanding not one bit more attention than you were paying, here. The whole attention business was monstrously stressful, video callers found.
(2) And the videophonic stress was even worse if you were at all vain. I.e. if you worried at all about how you looked. As in to other people. Which all kidding aside who doesn't. Good old aural telephone calls could be fielded without makeup, toupee, surgical prostheses, etc. Even without clothes, if that sort of thing rattled your saber. But for the image-conscious, there was of course no such answer-as-you-are informality about visual-video telephone calls, which consumers began to see were less like having the good old phone ring than having the doorbell ring and having to throw on clothes and attach prostheses and do hair-checks in the foyer mirror before answering the door.
But the real coffin-nail for videophony involved the way callers' faces looked on their T P screen, during calls. Not their callers' faces, but their own, when they saw them on video. It was a three-button affair, after all, to use the TP's cartridge-card's Video-Record option to record both pulses in a two-way visual call and play the call back and see how your face had actually looked to the other person during the call. This sort of appearance check was no more resistible than a mirror. But the experience proved almost universally horrifying. People were horrified at how their own faces appeared on a TP screen. It wasn't just 'Anchorman's Bloat,' that well known impression of extra weight that video inflicts on the face. It was worse. Even with high-end TPs' high-def viewer-screens, consumers perceived something essentially blurred and moist-looking about their phone-faces, a shiny pallid indefiniteness that struck them as not just unflattering but somehow evasive, furtive, untrustworthy, unlikable. In an early and ominous InterLace/G.T.E. focus-group survey that was all but ignored in a storm of entrepreneurial sci-fi-tech enthusiasm, almost 60% of respondents who received visual access to their own faces during videophonic calls specifically used the terms untrustworthy, unlikable, or hard to like in describing their own visage's appearance, with a phenomenally ominous 71% of senior-citizen respondents specifically comparing their video-faces to that of Richard Nixon during the Nixon-Kennedy debates of B.S. 1960.
The proposed solution to what the telecommunications industry's psychological consultants termed Video-Physiognomic Dysphoria (or VPD) was, of course, the advent of High-Definition Masking; and in fact it was those entrepreneurs who gravitated toward the production of high-definition videophonic imaging and then outright masks who got in and out of the short-lived videophonic era with their shirts plus solid additional nets.
Mask-wise, the initial option of High-Definition Photographic Imaging -- i.e. taking the most flattering elements of a variety of flattering multi-angle photos of a given phone-consumer and -- thanks to existing image-configuration equipment already pioneered by the cosmetics and law enforcement industries -- combining them into a wildly attractive high-def broadcastable composite of a face wearing an earnest, slightly overintense expression of complete attention -- was quickly supplanted by the more inexpensive and byte-economical option of (using the exact same cosmetic-and-FBI software) actually casting the enhanced facial image in a form-fitting polybutylene-resin mask, and consumers soon found that the high up-front cost of a permanent wearable mask was more than worth it, considering the stress- and VPD-reduction benefits, and the convenient Velcro straps for the back of the mask and caller's head cost peanuts; and for a couple fiscal quarters phone/cable companies were able to rally VPD-afflicted consumers' confidence by working out a horizontally integrated deal where free composite-and-masking services came with a videophone hookup. The high-def masks, when not in use, simply hung on a small hook on the side of a TP's phone-console, admittedly looking maybe a bit surreal and discomfiting when detached and hanging there empty and wrinkled, and sometimes there were potentially awkward mistaken-identity snafus involving multi-user family or company phones and the hurried selection and attachment of the wrong mask taken from some long row of empty hanging masks -- but all in all the masks seemed initially like a viable industry response to the vanity,-stress,-and-Nixonian-facial-image problem.
(2 and maybe also 3) But combine the natural entrepreneurial instinct to satisfy all sufficiently high consumer demand, on the one hand, with what appears to be an almost equally natural distortion in the way persons tend to see themselves, and it becomes possible to account historically for the speed with which the whole high-def-videophonic-rnask thing spiralled totally out of control. Not only is it weirdly hard to evaluate what you yourself look like, like whether you're good-looking or not -- e.g. try looking in the mirror and determining where you stand in the attractiveness-hierarchy with anything like the objective ease you can determine whether just about anyone else you know is good-looking or not -- but it turned out that consumers' instinctively skewed self-perception, plus vanity-related stress, meant that they began preferring and then outright demanding videophone masks that were really quite a lot better-looking than they themselves were in person. High-def mask-entrepreneurs ready and willing to supply not just verisimilitude but aesthetic enhancement -- stronger chins, smaller eyebags, air-brushed scars and wrinkles -- soon pushed the original mimetic-mask-entrepreneurs right out of the market. In a gradually unsubtlizing progression, within a couple more sales-quarters most consumers were now using masks so undeniably better-looking on videophones than their real faces were in person, transmitting to one another such horrendously skewed and enhanced masked images of themselves, that enormous psychosocial stress began to result, large numbers of phone-users suddenly reluctant to leave home and interface personally with people who, they feared, were now habituated to seeing their far-better-looking masked selves on the phone and would on seeing them in person suffer (so went the callers' phobia) the same illusion-shattering aesthetic disappointment that, e.g., certain women who always wear makeup give people the first time they ever see them without makeup.
The social anxieties surrounding the phenomenon psych-consultants termed Optimistically Misrepresentational Masking (or OMM) intensified steadily as the tiny crude first-generation videophone cameras' technology improved to where the aperture wasn't as narrow, and now the higher-end tiny cameras could countenance and transmit more or less full-body images. Certain psychologically unscrupulous entrepreneurs began marketing full-body polybutylene and -urethane 2-D cutouts --sort of like the headless muscleman and bathing-beauty cutouts you could stand behind and position your chin on the cardboard neck-stump of for cheap photos at the beach, only these full-body videophone-masks were vastly more high-tech and convincing-looking. Once you added variable 2-D wardrobe, hair-and eye-color options, various aesthetic enlargements and reductions, etc., costs started to press the envelope of mass-market affordability, even though there was at the same time horrific social pressure to be able to afford the very best possible masked 2-D body-image, to keep from feeling comparatively hideous-looking on the phone. How long, then, could one expect it to have been before the relentless entrepreneurial drive toward an ever-better mousetrap conceived of the Transmittable Tableau (a.k.a. TT), which in retrospect was probably the really sharp business-end of the videophonic coffin-nail. With TTs, facial and bodily masking could now be dispensed with altogether and replaced with the video-transmitted image of what was essentially a heavily doctored still-photograph, one of an incredibly fit and attractive and well-turned-out human being, someone who actually resembled you the caller only in such limited respects as like race and limb-number, the photo's face focused attentively in the direction of the videophonic camera from amid the sumptuous but not ostentatious appointments of the sort of room that best reflected the image of yourself you wanted to transmit, etc.
The Tableaux were simply high-quality transmission-ready photographs, scaled down to diorama-like proportions and fitted with a plastic holder over the videophone camera, not unlike a lens-cap. Extremely good-looking but not terrifically successful entertainment-celebrities -- the same sort who in decades past would have swelled the cast-lists of infomercials -- found themselves in demand as models for various high-end videophone Tableaux.
Because they involved simple transmission-ready photography instead of computer imaging and enhancement, the Tableaux could be mass-produced and commensurately priced, and for a brief time they helped ease the tension between the high cost of enhanced body-masking and the monstrous aesthetic pressures videophony exerted on callers, not to mention also providing employment for set-designers, photographers, airbrushers, and infomercial-level celebrities hard-pressed by the declining fortunes of broadcast television advertising.
(3) But there's some sort of revealing lesson here in the beyond-short-term viability-curve of advances in consumer technology. The career of videophony conforms neatly to this curve's classically annular shape: First there's some sort of terrific, sci-fi-like advance in consumer tech -- like from aural to videophoning -- which advance always, however, has certain unforeseen disadvantages for the consumer; and then but the market-niches created by those disadvantages -- like people's stressfully vain repulsion at their own videophonic appearance -- are ingeniously filled via sheer entrepreneurial verve; and yet the very advantages of these ingenious disadvantage-compensations seem all too often to undercut the original high-tech advance, resulting in consumer-recidivism and curve-closure and massive shirt-loss for precipitant investors. In the present case, the stress-and-vanity-compensations' own evolution saw video-callers rejecting first their own faces and then even their own heavily masked and enhanced physical likenesses and finally covering the video-cameras altogether and transmitting attractively stylized static Tableaux to one another's TPs. And, behind these lens-cap dioramas and transmitted Tableaux, callers of course found that they were once again stresslessly invisible, unvainly makeup- and toupeeless and baggy-eyed behind their celebrity-dioramas, once again free -- since once again unseen -- to doodle, blemish-scan, manicure, crease-check -- while on their screen, the attractive, intensely attentive face of the well-appointed celebrity on the other end's Tableau reassured them that they were the objects of a concentrated attention they themselves didn't have to exert.
And of course but these advantages were nothing other than the once-lost and now-appreciated advantages of good old Bell-era blind aural-only telephoning, with its 6 and (62) pinholes. The only difference was that now these expensive silly unreal stylized Tableaux were being transmitted between TPs on high-priced video-fiber lines. How much time, after this realization sank in and spread among consumers (mostly via phone, interestingly), would any micro-econometrist expect to need to pass before high-tech visual videophony was mostly abandoned, then, a return to good old telephoning not only dictated by common consumer sense but actually after a while culturally approved as a kind of chic integrity, not Ludditism but a kind of retrograde transcendence of sci-fi-ish high-tech for its own sake, a transcendence of the vanity and the slavery to high-techfashion that people view as so unattractive in one another. In other words a return to aural-only telephony became, at the closed curve's end, a kind of status symbol of anti-vanity, such that only callers utterly lacking in self-awareness continued to use videophony and Tableaux, to say nothing of masks, and these tacky facsimile-using people became ironic cultural symbols of tacky vain slavery to corporate PR and high-tech novelty, became the Subsidized Era's tacky equivalents of people with leisure suits, black velvet paintings, sweater-vests for their poodles, electric zirconium jewelry, NoCoat LinguaScrapers, and c. Most communications consumers put their Tableaux-dioramas at the back of a knick-knack shelf and covered their cameras with standard black lens-caps and now used their phone consoles' little maskhooks to hang these new little plasticene address-and-phone diaries specially made with a little receptacle at the top of the binding for convenient hanging from former mask-hooks. Even then, of course, the bulk of U.S. consumers remained verifiably reluctant to leave home and teleputer and to interface personally, though this phenomenon's endurance can't be attributed to the videophony-fad per se, and anyway the new panagoraphobia served to open huge new entrepreneurial teleputerized markets for home-shopping and -delivery, and didn't cause much industry concern.
- from Infinite Jest by David Foster Wallace
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
Being There
So, you're starting to hit the big time, you're invited to all the big parties, and you discover you are human.
I love this blog post from Elizabeth Banks where she cops to doing the two thumbs up in spite of her better judgement.
Not that I'm anything close to a Hollywood starlet, but I did the double thumbs up recently, and as they were hoisting from my fists, I was already thinking, "what in the hell am I doing?"
Oh well.
So, you're starting to hit the big time, you're invited to all the big parties, and you discover you are human.
I love this blog post from Elizabeth Banks where she cops to doing the two thumbs up in spite of her better judgement.
Not that I'm anything close to a Hollywood starlet, but I did the double thumbs up recently, and as they were hoisting from my fists, I was already thinking, "what in the hell am I doing?"
Oh well.
Monday, April 13, 2009
Media Insiders Say Internet Hurts Journalism (says "The Atlantic")
There's been a lot of news about the news lately - newspapers going under, what journalism in America should mean, blaming the internet, etc. (And who the hell are these "media insiders" and why weren't they identified?)
My opinion on it is pretty straightforward: the news media fell on its ever-loving ass during the Bush years (though they began the fall during the Clinton years).
Journalism hurt journalism.
It caved. It failed to report important story after important story. All of news became some pale version of Fox news. No one fact-checked except Al Franken. And, no one had the guts to openly mock Fox for even claiming Fox is a legitimate news outlet.
The far right has won the noise war for years, but they've never gotten past being blatantly biased as hell and playing to the choir rather than to anyone interested in the facts.
When Rupert Murdock took over "The Wall Street Journal" and immediately ignored the prohibitions he agreed to regarding the purchase, everyone should've immediately walked away and canceled their subscriptions.
The fact that Sun Myung Moon has had deep access to, and support for, the Republican party should be a weekly article in most papers. I mean, c'mon: a dangerous cult leader who's cult brought about deprogramming from brainwashing who also claims to be Jesus having that kind of access? How does the "Washington Times" even have subscribers and readers? Like Nancy Grace does with her missing kids, every serious journalism shop should have the daily announcement or scroll across the bottom of the page saying "Sun Myung Moon still in America, still attending Republican events" until the bastard is arrested or deported.
A local newscast report this week on the Obama's getting their dog finally, and the report said it wasn't a shelter dog as Obama "promised" it would be, thus yet one more campaign promise has fallen by the wayside.
Excuse me?
WTF?
The guy didn't even blink or smirk to let us know that bit of "reporting" was a joke.
So, when the newspapers and TV reporters get back some guts and actually report facts and the news, things will begin to improve, but if they insist on coming off like Bill O'Reilly, they might as well take their fucking loofahs and go home.
There's been a lot of news about the news lately - newspapers going under, what journalism in America should mean, blaming the internet, etc. (And who the hell are these "media insiders" and why weren't they identified?)
My opinion on it is pretty straightforward: the news media fell on its ever-loving ass during the Bush years (though they began the fall during the Clinton years).
Journalism hurt journalism.
It caved. It failed to report important story after important story. All of news became some pale version of Fox news. No one fact-checked except Al Franken. And, no one had the guts to openly mock Fox for even claiming Fox is a legitimate news outlet.
The far right has won the noise war for years, but they've never gotten past being blatantly biased as hell and playing to the choir rather than to anyone interested in the facts.
When Rupert Murdock took over "The Wall Street Journal" and immediately ignored the prohibitions he agreed to regarding the purchase, everyone should've immediately walked away and canceled their subscriptions.
The fact that Sun Myung Moon has had deep access to, and support for, the Republican party should be a weekly article in most papers. I mean, c'mon: a dangerous cult leader who's cult brought about deprogramming from brainwashing who also claims to be Jesus having that kind of access? How does the "Washington Times" even have subscribers and readers? Like Nancy Grace does with her missing kids, every serious journalism shop should have the daily announcement or scroll across the bottom of the page saying "Sun Myung Moon still in America, still attending Republican events" until the bastard is arrested or deported.
A local newscast report this week on the Obama's getting their dog finally, and the report said it wasn't a shelter dog as Obama "promised" it would be, thus yet one more campaign promise has fallen by the wayside.
Excuse me?
WTF?
The guy didn't even blink or smirk to let us know that bit of "reporting" was a joke.
So, when the newspapers and TV reporters get back some guts and actually report facts and the news, things will begin to improve, but if they insist on coming off like Bill O'Reilly, they might as well take their fucking loofahs and go home.
Whither Sulu?
Saw Nick and Nora's Infinite Playlst, which was not something I had on my waitlist, but since it was on the shelf, I snagged it in case time presented itself. And it did. I have this lovely flu that's like a greatest hits of other viruses: combo cold, body hangover, and digestive tract craziness (that hasn't included yacking, thank God).
The movie is as tedious as most reviews label it. It's watchable when you don't feel like getting up and putting in American Graffiti or Dazed and Confused. But there's no real conflict, and I wondered how in the hell Michael Cera ("Nick") keeps getting parts with his nearly complete lack of looks and charm, though I hope to see way more of Kat Dennings ("Nora") who has plenty of both.
Outside of watching Kat do her stuff, I was pleasantly surprised when it looked like they would have a major Asian character (outside of sci-fi). Maybe because I don't watch swat-fu flicks, I notice it when an Asian appears in a lead, because they almost never do. It's like having a dad on a sitcom who's not a major buffoon.
However, my second thought was, "ah, but they'll make him gay, probably" and sure enough, Nick is in a band where all the other guys are gay. Imagine that little walk through hell if this were even remotely realistic. You go through the pain of learning how to play an instrument to be in a band to meet chicks (the largest common denominator for most guy musicians) but there you are in gay bar after gay bar, fending of guy pass after guy pass.
But I digress…
What the hell is it with the nearly complete dearth of normal Asian main characters? Is this a holdover from the prejudices of WWII, maybe?
Now, I'm not a quota person, but after someone mentioned way back in the day that there were no black actors in commercials until the Cosby show (when he demanded it), and the complaint that there were no black acts on MTV until they swapped over to nothing but black acts, I ended up with a low-key mental filter that when I watched a drama or comedy (again, fantasy and sci-fi are somehow exempt), I would eventually notice if the cast didn't have the mix of people types I encountered day to day.
This also does not count the overabundance of pretty people in entertainment; no one wants to look at average people all the time. My "is this realistic?" filter actually kicks in when there are too many plain people, because it IS abnormal for entertainment.
And for those of you who are thinking I'm a hypocrite by asking, "Where are the Asians?" while at the same time complaining (somewhat) about (what I've come to think of as) "the obligatory gay character," it goes back to the daily mix I encounter in reality. I see way more gay characters in fiction anymore than I do in real life, and typically they are uber-heroic in ways that would be laughable in reality. I've known some very wonderful gay people, but I've also known my share of petty, hateful, bitchy and mean gays, too. Imagine a bad gay character in a major or indy film these days.
I exempted sci-fi because that's about the one place where you do see Asian leads who are actually the hero, except for Garrett Wang / Harry Kim from ST Voyager who was such a pussy that all the female characters had more balls than he did.
But that leaves the question as to why sci-fi doesn't have the same unbalance that dramas and comedies do.
I have no theory. Do you?
Saw Nick and Nora's Infinite Playlst, which was not something I had on my waitlist, but since it was on the shelf, I snagged it in case time presented itself. And it did. I have this lovely flu that's like a greatest hits of other viruses: combo cold, body hangover, and digestive tract craziness (that hasn't included yacking, thank God).
The movie is as tedious as most reviews label it. It's watchable when you don't feel like getting up and putting in American Graffiti or Dazed and Confused. But there's no real conflict, and I wondered how in the hell Michael Cera ("Nick") keeps getting parts with his nearly complete lack of looks and charm, though I hope to see way more of Kat Dennings ("Nora") who has plenty of both.
Outside of watching Kat do her stuff, I was pleasantly surprised when it looked like they would have a major Asian character (outside of sci-fi). Maybe because I don't watch swat-fu flicks, I notice it when an Asian appears in a lead, because they almost never do. It's like having a dad on a sitcom who's not a major buffoon.
However, my second thought was, "ah, but they'll make him gay, probably" and sure enough, Nick is in a band where all the other guys are gay. Imagine that little walk through hell if this were even remotely realistic. You go through the pain of learning how to play an instrument to be in a band to meet chicks (the largest common denominator for most guy musicians) but there you are in gay bar after gay bar, fending of guy pass after guy pass.
But I digress…
What the hell is it with the nearly complete dearth of normal Asian main characters? Is this a holdover from the prejudices of WWII, maybe?
Now, I'm not a quota person, but after someone mentioned way back in the day that there were no black actors in commercials until the Cosby show (when he demanded it), and the complaint that there were no black acts on MTV until they swapped over to nothing but black acts, I ended up with a low-key mental filter that when I watched a drama or comedy (again, fantasy and sci-fi are somehow exempt), I would eventually notice if the cast didn't have the mix of people types I encountered day to day.
This also does not count the overabundance of pretty people in entertainment; no one wants to look at average people all the time. My "is this realistic?" filter actually kicks in when there are too many plain people, because it IS abnormal for entertainment.
And for those of you who are thinking I'm a hypocrite by asking, "Where are the Asians?" while at the same time complaining (somewhat) about (what I've come to think of as) "the obligatory gay character," it goes back to the daily mix I encounter in reality. I see way more gay characters in fiction anymore than I do in real life, and typically they are uber-heroic in ways that would be laughable in reality. I've known some very wonderful gay people, but I've also known my share of petty, hateful, bitchy and mean gays, too. Imagine a bad gay character in a major or indy film these days.
I exempted sci-fi because that's about the one place where you do see Asian leads who are actually the hero, except for Garrett Wang / Harry Kim from ST Voyager who was such a pussy that all the female characters had more balls than he did.
But that leaves the question as to why sci-fi doesn't have the same unbalance that dramas and comedies do.
I have no theory. Do you?
Tuesday, April 07, 2009
"I remember literally breaking out into a sweat"
I've written about this before, but now I can actually show you Butch Vig's reaction to hearing Nirvana play "Smells Like Team Spirit" for the first time.
The reason this intrigues me is it's about the genesis of probably one of the best songs evar, a pivotal moment in music history.
I've always wondered what it would be like to be there when a seminal work is being born. I have a friend who spent years in the arts scene, going to performance after crappy performance of local bands, cruising all the art openings, hitting every event he could merely to experience being there when something huge was born and took off.
I don't think he ever had the pleasure.
Anyway, here's one story of being there when it did happen. I would've probably broken out into a sweat, too.
I've written about this before, but now I can actually show you Butch Vig's reaction to hearing Nirvana play "Smells Like Team Spirit" for the first time.
The reason this intrigues me is it's about the genesis of probably one of the best songs evar, a pivotal moment in music history.
I've always wondered what it would be like to be there when a seminal work is being born. I have a friend who spent years in the arts scene, going to performance after crappy performance of local bands, cruising all the art openings, hitting every event he could merely to experience being there when something huge was born and took off.
I don't think he ever had the pleasure.
Anyway, here's one story of being there when it did happen. I would've probably broken out into a sweat, too.
Monday, April 06, 2009
What's Wrong with This Picture?
I burst out laughing - loudly - at the library, which is still a no-no.
Now if the word "metro" had appeared in the title, maybe the soft, foofy sweater and the doe-eyed gaze - with the hand held so dandily to the side of the head - wouldn't have been so damn funny.
But "Mantalk"?
Uh, no.
I burst out laughing - loudly - at the library, which is still a no-no.
Now if the word "metro" had appeared in the title, maybe the soft, foofy sweater and the doe-eyed gaze - with the hand held so dandily to the side of the head - wouldn't have been so damn funny.
But "Mantalk"?
Uh, no.
He Should Be Pissed. Sorta.
The recent Rolling Stone has a nice little bio on Kris Kristofferson by Ethan Hawke (the actor, who's apparently branching out). It starts with a little vignette backstage at Willie Nelson's 70th birthday concert (excerpted from the Yahoo story, as Rolling Stone hasn't put it online yet):
After the shit Keith pulled on the Dixie Chicks, it's nice to see him get a little jab in the nuts. Which he handles well:
Oh, wah. Guess what goes around comes around. I can't wait for the Dixie Chicks song about it.
_________
Update:
Almost forgot to include a pretty funny story from the article, which I'll have to paraphrase as I don't have the mag with me.
At the funeral of June Carter Cash, as Kristofferson was sitting next to Johnny Cash in the receiving line, a guy walks up and after he offers his condolences to Cash, he tells Kristofferson that he loved his singing. After the guy walked away, Cash leaned over and whispered, "Well, there's one.
The recent Rolling Stone has a nice little bio on Kris Kristofferson by Ethan Hawke (the actor, who's apparently branching out). It starts with a little vignette backstage at Willie Nelson's 70th birthday concert (excerpted from the Yahoo story, as Rolling Stone hasn't put it online yet):
Hawke said the argument began with the "Star" [Toby Keith] telling Kristofferson: "None of that lefty (expletive) out there tonight, Kris."
Hawke said Kristofferson then angrily confronted and asked him if he had ever served in the military.
"Have you ever killed another man? Huh? Have you ever taken another man's life and then cashed the check your country gave you for doing it? No, you have not, so shut the (expletive) up," Hawke recounted Kristofferson as saying. "You don't know what the hell you are talking about."
After the shit Keith pulled on the Dixie Chicks, it's nice to see him get a little jab in the nuts. Which he handles well:
"He didn't even call me by my name. ... He called Norah Jones, Ray Charles, everybody else by name. Willie (Nelson), Kris (Kristofferson). Why didn't he call my name? Why didn't he say Toby Keith walked through and said this (expletive)? Right? You know why. You know why. You know as good as anybody why. He didn't want to (expletive) deal with the aftermath."
Oh, wah. Guess what goes around comes around. I can't wait for the Dixie Chicks song about it.
_________
Update:
Almost forgot to include a pretty funny story from the article, which I'll have to paraphrase as I don't have the mag with me.
At the funeral of June Carter Cash, as Kristofferson was sitting next to Johnny Cash in the receiving line, a guy walks up and after he offers his condolences to Cash, he tells Kristofferson that he loved his singing. After the guy walked away, Cash leaned over and whispered, "Well, there's one.
And Speaking of Rolling Stone...
They had a great (maddening and saddening) article on some of the corruption under the Bush administration:
Read the whole thing here.
They had a great (maddening and saddening) article on some of the corruption under the Bush administration:
During the Bush era, the scandals over America's wilderness areas were centered at the Mineral Management Service, the Denver office that serves as Interior's collection agency. The government auctions off the right to drill on public lands, and taxpayers are supposed to receive a cut of any profits that energy firms make on the oil and gas they extract. Last year, MMS collected more than $23 billion in royalties from drilling — second in revenues only to the IRS. "The oil companies were basically running MMS during the Bush years," says Bobby Maxwell, a top auditor for the service who was forced out of his job in 2005, despite having recovered more than $500 million in unpaid royalties during his career.
Maxwell and other auditors sensed the change in direction as soon as Bush took office: Collections of unpaid royalties from oil and gas companies plunged from $300 million a year to less than $50 million. "The focus changed," says Maxwell. "It was 'Quit doing detailed audits. Stop getting records from oil companies.' " The push was no longer to collect money owed to taxpayers for drilling on public land — it was to provide what the Bush administration euphemistically called "royalty relief" to big energy firms.
MMS not only slashed audits by 22 percent, it even prohibited auditors from recouping money in cases involving clear evidence of fraud. In what would become the costliest scandal, it also looked the other way when it learned that, because of a massive bureaucratic fuck-up, it had failed to collect billions in royalties for deep-water drilling in the Gulf of Mexico. Instead, the Bush administration fought to let oil companies keep the money, and a judge appointed by Bush recently overturned royalty collections on 75 percent of all oil produced in the Gulf. Should the ruling stand, taxpayers will forfeit as much as $53 billion owed by Big Oil.
As another favor to oil and gas companies, MMS also set up an office called "Royalty in Kind," allowing drilling interests to pay the government not in cash but in petroleum products. The RIK office would then sell those products on the open market, bringing in some $4 billion a year. But since the office owned no pipelines or refineries, it was forced to extend lucrative contracts to the oil companies to transport and process the oil — taking another costly bite out of the revenue owed to taxpayers.
Instead of negotiating tough deals with the oil companies, officials in the royalties office indulged in what an internal investigation later termed "a culture of substance abuse and promiscuity." A third of RIK staff members, the investigation found, accepted illicit gifts from the industry. Others "used cocaine and marijuana, and had sexual relations with oil and gas company representatives." One pair of government-employees-gone-wild, celebrated among oilmen as the "MMS Chicks," partied hard during corporate snowboarding trips — one got so drunk at a ski resort that Shell had to put her up for the night in its "Dutchman Haus" chalet — and repeatedly had sex with representatives for Chevron and Shell. The "Chicks" did not recuse themselves from negotiations with the companies. Worse, they allowed Chevron and other firms to revise the terms of 118 contracts that had already been finalized — favors to the industry that cost taxpayers $4.4 million.
"They were literally and figuratively in bed with the oil industry," says Maxwell. The director of the Royalty in Kind office, Greg Smith, was apparently too busy worrying about where his next line of coke was coming from to rein in his underlings. According to Interior's inspector general, Smith regularly bought cocaine from a subordinate, offering her a $250 "performance award" as a reward for provisioning him with quality "office supplies." When Smith wasn't high — or pressuring women on his staff for blow jobs, as the inspector general found he did repeatedly — he was busy accepting payments from an oil–services consulting firm in return for insider information about the RIK program.
When the inspector general sent his findings to the Justice Department, however, the Bush administration suddenly went soft on drugs, declining to prosecute Smith. It also failed to charge Lucy Dennet, a former associate director of MMS, whom the inspector general said "manipulated the contracting process" to steer $1.1 million in government business to a company run by two outgoing MMS agents, both of whom have pleaded guilty to felony violations of conflict of interest. Many Interior insiders believe that both Dennet and Smith are prime candidates for prosecution under Salazar. Speaking to Rolling Stone, the secretary refused to speculate about which former officials are now in legal jeopardy, but says that his investigation extends beyond the corruption at MMS to the entire department. "I am being cautious as a former prosecutor," he says. "I can't tell you everything I know."
Even by Washington standards, the level of corruption at MMS was mind-boggling — far worse than the notorious bribe-for-drilling scandal that defined the administration of Warren G. Harding. "The previous low point for the Interior Department was the Teapot Dome scandal of the 1920s," says Jeff Ruch, executive director of a federal watchdog group called Public Employees for Environmental Responsibility. "Right now we've got Teapot Dome cubed."
Read the whole thing here.
Thursday, April 02, 2009
In which my baby finds a children's book that's NSFW
A family ritual of ours is a weekly (at least) visit to the library where we let the girls pull anything and everything off the shelf they'd like to read, watch, or listen to. Our only limitation is the sheer amount of stuff that we can carry to the van in one trip.
As the four-year-old plucks things from the shelves, we do a quick preview because a huge portion of children's books are just weird. For instance, there's a huge genre I'd label "victimhood" which contains books about being a particular race, or religion, or having a handicap or something. We eschew all these books with an agenda other than telling a good story.
Well, even with our filtering, sometimes we miss a stinker.
What slipped through security this week was Mommy Laid an Egg: Or, Where Do Babies Come from?
From the cover, it looks like it will be whimsical.
But, after a page where it's explained that the cartoon penis fits into the cartoon vagina - an arrow even helps us make the connection (and it's cartoonish enough that it's almost innocuous) - we suddenly hap upon two pages that show many positions in which mom and dad can do it in.
Check it out for yourself, and believe it or not, this is NSFW!!! And it's a freakin' kids book!
Did they really need the Kama Sutra angle? Oh, and I especially love the pair who's role-playing with the clown noses and stuff. As if clowns weren't scary enough to kids.
What in the hell were these people thinking?
I half expected to find John and Yoko's conception video as a bonus DVD in the back.
(In case you've never heard this one, they filmed themselves screwing when they were trying for Sean, so they could give him the videos - along with his birthing vids - when he was old enough. How scarred would you be if you saw the video of your parents boinking in order to bring you into the world? Even if one of them was a Beatle?)
A family ritual of ours is a weekly (at least) visit to the library where we let the girls pull anything and everything off the shelf they'd like to read, watch, or listen to. Our only limitation is the sheer amount of stuff that we can carry to the van in one trip.
As the four-year-old plucks things from the shelves, we do a quick preview because a huge portion of children's books are just weird. For instance, there's a huge genre I'd label "victimhood" which contains books about being a particular race, or religion, or having a handicap or something. We eschew all these books with an agenda other than telling a good story.
Well, even with our filtering, sometimes we miss a stinker.
What slipped through security this week was Mommy Laid an Egg: Or, Where Do Babies Come from?
From the cover, it looks like it will be whimsical.
But, after a page where it's explained that the cartoon penis fits into the cartoon vagina - an arrow even helps us make the connection (and it's cartoonish enough that it's almost innocuous) - we suddenly hap upon two pages that show many positions in which mom and dad can do it in.
Check it out for yourself, and believe it or not, this is NSFW!!! And it's a freakin' kids book!
Did they really need the Kama Sutra angle? Oh, and I especially love the pair who's role-playing with the clown noses and stuff. As if clowns weren't scary enough to kids.
What in the hell were these people thinking?
I half expected to find John and Yoko's conception video as a bonus DVD in the back.
(In case you've never heard this one, they filmed themselves screwing when they were trying for Sean, so they could give him the videos - along with his birthing vids - when he was old enough. How scarred would you be if you saw the video of your parents boinking in order to bring you into the world? Even if one of them was a Beatle?)
Friday, March 27, 2009
Most Humble Apologies
Ever look at a morbidly obese person and wonder how they wiped their ass?
Wonder no more - the long reach comfort wipe:
(Click for full size, or click here to view the actual catalog entry)
In other advertising wonderfulness, check this out:
(Click for full size.)
I've heard that thedepression recession has been hardest on teenagers since old farts like myself are now asking folks if they'd like fries with that. Well, to me, here's the opportunity for a win-win. They should hire teenage boys to vet all ads, to insure they pass the "Beavis and Butthead" test.
Ever look at a morbidly obese person and wonder how they wiped their ass?
Wonder no more - the long reach comfort wipe:
(Click for full size, or click here to view the actual catalog entry)
In other advertising wonderfulness, check this out:
(Click for full size.)
I've heard that the
Sunday, March 15, 2009
Perhaps some recalibration is in order
That was the name of the post I started a week ago after I'd seen The Watchmen and had bought the new U2 album, No Line on the Horizon.
Both left me underwhelmed, and at first I decided maybe it was me. I've been busy as hell lately, my wife was in a car accident (she's fine, btw - got t-boned by a teenager who'd had her license a month), and the free hours I did have I spent on The Watchmen.
However, I've seen blog after blog go "meh" about it, so I've decided it does kinda blow (even though my two favorite critics - Ebert and Travers - liked it).
For me, the three moments that ruined it for me where:
- A "child in peril" where we see dogs fighting over the bloody leg bone of a little girl, which still has one of her shoes intact.
- A graphic sex scene which was bad enough in its own right (we see the guy's ass thrusting a few times), but they play Cohen's "Hallelujah" during the whole embarrassment. Not only has that song become a movie cliché, it has to be used ironically if it's used at all. But vetted as a serious soundtrack during a sex scene as we see their orgasms wash over their faces? I was not the only one who laughed out loud.
- They removed the freakin' ending. More on that later in the spoiler section.
Hopefully, this will be the last hard "R" adaptation of a comic book. Comic books are about grand stories and escapism. Dead children and superheroes boinking in the owl-mobile really yank you back into the dark reality of the theatre where you face the fact that you're a grown man (or woman) watching a movie about people who run around in leotards and capes fighting crime, as opposed to wearing leotards and capes while getting hammered as a means of getting out your ya-yas before the Catholic holy season. More than once I thought back on how The Incredibles portrayed all the same concepts in a much better way.
U2's new album was originally on sale for $4 (as was Lily Allen's), a trend I like very much. So make sure you bite the first week they're on sale.
While the new set isn't horrible, it is their biggest stinker since Zooropa. Like that one, there's only one obvious hit and a lot of noodling. That makes two albums in a row that aren't spectacular. But then, they have made so many spectacular albums that when they make a merely good one, it's a disappointment. There is one classic lyric though: "Every beauty needs to go out with an idiot."
Supposedly they are coming out with another album this year of the other songs they recorded during the sessions but didn't feel they were good enough or fit the theme of this album. I'll bet you that album will actually be pretty good, and if it is, you heard it here first.
I'm enjoying Lily Allen's It's Not Me, It's You much more. I'm even gonna buy the expurgated version of "Fuck You" because since they had to bleep it so much, they got creative and went totally Monty Python on it.
Even cooler, she's got a page where folks can upload remixes of her songs. On the CD are the base tracks for all the songs, so you can roll your own. (If I had the time, I'd get it and do just that, but since I don't, I just popped for the MP3s). The remixes are also a way to hear complete versions of the songs before you buy. Brilliant. If I were a rock star, I'd do this.
I'm apparently WAY behind the curve* on this next song because "popular" radio anymore mystifies and annoys me. Heck, even this song annoys me, because it would actually be a tasty tune if there were any TUNE there. All it's got is a beat and an aggravating synth run. BUT, the dancing is mesmerizing. And I HATE dancing videos. HATE'EM, I say. When videos went from little movies to nothing but choreographed dance numbers, I pretty much tuned out. I think that is really when MTV experienced their first big loss of viewership; the second being when they stopped playing vids altogether.
But once in a while one comes along that makes you go "whoa," and this is one of those times.
Beyoncé » Single Ladies (Put A Ring On It)
*Apparently this has been out and popular for so long, there are well over two dozen parodies of it on Youtube.
___________
Update:
Syaffolee discovered the original dance the above wasstolen from based on:
If you're going to see The Watchmen, stop reading now.
+++ THE SPOILER SECTION +++
I would guess that a lot of those who flock to The Watchmen have read the original, and somewhat seminal (save for the ending), graphic novel. As such, they probably anticipate the original ending.
Like me, they'll be sitting there as the credits roll thinking, "Did they really just do that? Did they really fuck up that badly?" Out in the lobby, they will finally face that the answer to both questions is "…yes."
Y'see, in the comic, the uber-smart Watchman guy (I don't care to look up their names) has secretly concocted a huge fake alien - faked so well using DNA manipulation, no one but he would be able to tell - which he then materializes in the middle of NYC, making it appear as though the process of teleporting actually killed the alien. This causes the world to unite together against this alien threat, stopping the nuclear annihilation about to occur between Russia and the US. (Let's disregard the fact that an actual event like that - the destruction of the towers - failed to do anything of the sort. I don't know why it'd matter if it were an alien or terrorists.) (Oh, and the towers are actually shown quite a few times in the background as if to underline this very thing.)
Folks who haven't read the novel will wonder what the hell really happened, because what does occur in the movie is a nuke goes off in the middle of NYC and they blame one of the Watchmen (the big, blue, naked one), which then causes worldwide peace as we unite against that particular superhero. Which makes no sense, because it's shown throughout the movie that if that particular superhero DID attack us, there's nothing we could do to stop it.
So they not only cripple the ending by changing it, they make it nonsensical.
For the record, when I was researching this, I discovered that the "fake alien invasion causes peace" plot was original to an "Outer Limits" episode called "The Architects of Fear," which the author of The Watchmen comic, Alan Moore, discovered after he'd already planned the ending, so he stuck in an "homage" to that episode to acknowledge the same.
You kinda wonder who was the fucktard was who thought changing the ending around was a good idea. It's kinda like if they changed the ending of Gone With the Wind and not only have Rhett stay with Scarlett end, but he reaches behind his neck and unzips a costume to reveal that he's really Ellen DeGeneres.
That was the name of the post I started a week ago after I'd seen The Watchmen and had bought the new U2 album, No Line on the Horizon.
Both left me underwhelmed, and at first I decided maybe it was me. I've been busy as hell lately, my wife was in a car accident (she's fine, btw - got t-boned by a teenager who'd had her license a month), and the free hours I did have I spent on The Watchmen.
However, I've seen blog after blog go "meh" about it, so I've decided it does kinda blow (even though my two favorite critics - Ebert and Travers - liked it).
For me, the three moments that ruined it for me where:
- A "child in peril" where we see dogs fighting over the bloody leg bone of a little girl, which still has one of her shoes intact.
- A graphic sex scene which was bad enough in its own right (we see the guy's ass thrusting a few times), but they play Cohen's "Hallelujah" during the whole embarrassment. Not only has that song become a movie cliché, it has to be used ironically if it's used at all. But vetted as a serious soundtrack during a sex scene as we see their orgasms wash over their faces? I was not the only one who laughed out loud.
- They removed the freakin' ending. More on that later in the spoiler section.
Hopefully, this will be the last hard "R" adaptation of a comic book. Comic books are about grand stories and escapism. Dead children and superheroes boinking in the owl-mobile really yank you back into the dark reality of the theatre where you face the fact that you're a grown man (or woman) watching a movie about people who run around in leotards and capes fighting crime, as opposed to wearing leotards and capes while getting hammered as a means of getting out your ya-yas before the Catholic holy season. More than once I thought back on how The Incredibles portrayed all the same concepts in a much better way.
U2's new album was originally on sale for $4 (as was Lily Allen's), a trend I like very much. So make sure you bite the first week they're on sale.
While the new set isn't horrible, it is their biggest stinker since Zooropa. Like that one, there's only one obvious hit and a lot of noodling. That makes two albums in a row that aren't spectacular. But then, they have made so many spectacular albums that when they make a merely good one, it's a disappointment. There is one classic lyric though: "Every beauty needs to go out with an idiot."
Supposedly they are coming out with another album this year of the other songs they recorded during the sessions but didn't feel they were good enough or fit the theme of this album. I'll bet you that album will actually be pretty good, and if it is, you heard it here first.
I'm enjoying Lily Allen's It's Not Me, It's You much more. I'm even gonna buy the expurgated version of "Fuck You" because since they had to bleep it so much, they got creative and went totally Monty Python on it.
Even cooler, she's got a page where folks can upload remixes of her songs. On the CD are the base tracks for all the songs, so you can roll your own. (If I had the time, I'd get it and do just that, but since I don't, I just popped for the MP3s). The remixes are also a way to hear complete versions of the songs before you buy. Brilliant. If I were a rock star, I'd do this.
I'm apparently WAY behind the curve* on this next song because "popular" radio anymore mystifies and annoys me. Heck, even this song annoys me, because it would actually be a tasty tune if there were any TUNE there. All it's got is a beat and an aggravating synth run. BUT, the dancing is mesmerizing. And I HATE dancing videos. HATE'EM, I say. When videos went from little movies to nothing but choreographed dance numbers, I pretty much tuned out. I think that is really when MTV experienced their first big loss of viewership; the second being when they stopped playing vids altogether.
But once in a while one comes along that makes you go "whoa," and this is one of those times.
Beyoncé » Single Ladies (Put A Ring On It)
*Apparently this has been out and popular for so long, there are well over two dozen parodies of it on Youtube.
___________
Update:
Syaffolee discovered the original dance the above was
If you're going to see The Watchmen, stop reading now.
+++ THE SPOILER SECTION +++
I would guess that a lot of those who flock to The Watchmen have read the original, and somewhat seminal (save for the ending), graphic novel. As such, they probably anticipate the original ending.
Like me, they'll be sitting there as the credits roll thinking, "Did they really just do that? Did they really fuck up that badly?" Out in the lobby, they will finally face that the answer to both questions is "…yes."
Y'see, in the comic, the uber-smart Watchman guy (I don't care to look up their names) has secretly concocted a huge fake alien - faked so well using DNA manipulation, no one but he would be able to tell - which he then materializes in the middle of NYC, making it appear as though the process of teleporting actually killed the alien. This causes the world to unite together against this alien threat, stopping the nuclear annihilation about to occur between Russia and the US. (Let's disregard the fact that an actual event like that - the destruction of the towers - failed to do anything of the sort. I don't know why it'd matter if it were an alien or terrorists.) (Oh, and the towers are actually shown quite a few times in the background as if to underline this very thing.)
Folks who haven't read the novel will wonder what the hell really happened, because what does occur in the movie is a nuke goes off in the middle of NYC and they blame one of the Watchmen (the big, blue, naked one), which then causes worldwide peace as we unite against that particular superhero. Which makes no sense, because it's shown throughout the movie that if that particular superhero DID attack us, there's nothing we could do to stop it.
So they not only cripple the ending by changing it, they make it nonsensical.
For the record, when I was researching this, I discovered that the "fake alien invasion causes peace" plot was original to an "Outer Limits" episode called "The Architects of Fear," which the author of The Watchmen comic, Alan Moore, discovered after he'd already planned the ending, so he stuck in an "homage" to that episode to acknowledge the same.
You kinda wonder who was the fucktard was who thought changing the ending around was a good idea. It's kinda like if they changed the ending of Gone With the Wind and not only have Rhett stay with Scarlett end, but he reaches behind his neck and unzips a costume to reveal that he's really Ellen DeGeneres.
Sunday, March 08, 2009
Groovy
I don't know how Attu finds this stuff, but this is one heck of a video mashup groove. (Btw, Attu has attempted so split his blog into SFW and NSFW, but I would still use caution when going to the main, quasi-SFW.)
I'm gonna mp3-ize this one to see if it sounds good without the vid portion.
I may be wrong, it's been a while since I've seen it, but I think the drummer comes from the Steely Dan "Aja" vid in the totally awesome (for music lovers) Classic Album documentary series.
I don't know how Attu finds this stuff, but this is one heck of a video mashup groove. (Btw, Attu has attempted so split his blog into SFW and NSFW, but I would still use caution when going to the main, quasi-SFW.)
I'm gonna mp3-ize this one to see if it sounds good without the vid portion.
I may be wrong, it's been a while since I've seen it, but I think the drummer comes from the Steely Dan "Aja" vid in the totally awesome (for music lovers) Classic Album documentary series.
Friday, March 06, 2009
Oscars and Issues
Read Pictures at a Revolution which was a sorta dull, straightforward history of the five films nominated for best Oscar in 1968. The premise is that was the exact year when old Hollywood supposedly succumbed to the new Hollywood, though that premise isn't given all that much analysis.
That's pretty much the problem with "Revolution": a lot of wind about "what" but not much about "why."
However, I've always been curious about Sidney Poitier - one of the primary topics of the book - because he was such a mainstay and huge star for a long time and then seemed to drop off the face of the planet. From what I can gather, he was the dual victim of black activism and white tokenism. On the one side, he was getting flack from black activists because he always played "good, safe" black men, and on the other side, he still wasn't considered for every leading role (read "leading roles meant for white guys") and was typecast as, well, Sidney Poitier. You wonder if he would've gotten past that had he not folded to the pressure to stop taking "Sidney Poitier" roles.
Aside from that, got two good pieces of trivia:
- Morgan Fairchild was Faye Dunaway's stunt double when her character had to drive because she couldn't drive a stick.
- The famous "Elaine!" scene in the church at the end of The Graduate where Hoffman had his arms out like he was Jesus on the cross was really just a "fix" because when he pounded on the glass (as he did on the first take), it would wobble and looked like it was going to break - it was not symbolic crucifixion as many critics at the time claimed.
TLD: Reading about The Graduate spurred a thought. When I worked at a vid store many moons ago, a couple stoners walked and asked for a surfing movie, so I gave them Apocalypse Now, which they loved, and forever after sought me out for recommendations. If that were today and someone walked in and asked for a movie on cougars, I'd hand them The Graduate.
And speaking of the Oscars, my wife and I used to view the Oscars as our superbowl, since neither of us are into professional competitive sports.
However, the type of movies that get nominated anymore are the tedious dramas with "plots" that used to be contained to the swamp of the literary fiction genre (incest! adultery! pedophilia! children dying! sexual predators! misery!), or spirited and preferably non-white foreigners overcoming something, or all gay all the time stuff (which knee-capped Broadway, so the movie folks better pay heed to the empty theaters showing Milk).
As this fun article points out, the Oscars are worth watching only if you've actually seen the movies that are nominated, which a larger portion of the movie-going public probably had not this year.
This jab from a "loved it, hated it" article made me laugh: "[T]the show bogged down with that somber bunch of Best Supporting Actresses intoning like they were going to banish the winner to the Forbidden Zone with General Zod." Those little ego-orgies were a bit much. Anthony Hopkins appeared to be especially mortified when his turn came to polish some nominee knob.
Ben Stiller's funny yet cruel impersonation of Joaquin Phoenix's publicly disintegrating mental health was a guilty hoot. Which led me to wonder about Tropic Thunder which I saw recently and was appalled at how unfunny it was. Why can't Stiller write and direct anything funny? He's great when he's doing someone else's material, but nearly everything he's written and directed has been on that edge of being funny; as you are watching it, you see how close it comes to actually being funny, but it just doesn't get there. So how can he be so funny in a context like the Oscars and/or improv, but just blow at movies? A question for the ages, apparently.
The self-righteous gay politicking got to be a bit much for me. For new readers (assuming, here): I don't feel marriage is a right, so framing it as such is silly and actually undercuts the goal of expanding the definition of it. Frinstance, are the polygamists attempting to frame it as a right? I think if the gay factions that do succeed, the polygamists will jump on that bandwagon, but they haven't gone down that road themselves, because they know everyone would laugh them out of the chamber if they suggested that being married to several women (or men) at once is a right. So hearing folks at the Oscars equate it with real human rights struggles is just an eye-roller.
Anyway, in a barely related tangent, I had a realization lately when I let my eldest (re)watch the two "Legally Blonde" movies.
But first, a little background: we'd let her see them with us they first came out, because there was a cute little doggie, and we thought the more adult stuff would go right over her head (she was about 5 or 6 I think). That was the case with the first one, but the second one prominently featured a subplot where we discover the cute little doggie is gay. They hammer on that so hard and draw such a complete picture that our little one finally asked what "gay" was. We were furious that we suddenly had that topic to vet, hoping she would be older before we had to have any sort of sex talk. Now, blame us, the parents, first, because we let her watch the movie before we knew what it contained. But they had so many toy tie-ins to the movies (she was cradling her own stuffed "Buster" ensconced in his Elle purse as we watched), I guess we didn't suspect that it would flounder so long in that particular realm of adult sexuality - or worse, attach it to the one character a child would fixate on.
So, I'd always wondered why they went that direction because it made the movie - which comes off like a GLAAD/PETA (the leader of PETA is gay) infomercial - nearly unwatchable. I suspect because it was because the first one, while trying to be sensitive by having a gay character, still takes a few swipes anyway. For instance, Elle solves the case by figuring out the guy who's supposed to be cheating with the wife is actually gay because he knows what brand of shoe she's wearing. And she carries Buster, her chihuahua, around in her purse (a PETA no-no).
So, the whole second movie is penance to GLAAD and PETA. And it feels like it. Who'da thunk a trifle about a valley girl who follows her BF to Harvard but ends up a lawyer would've been turned into a spinach movie for the sequel. Notice there was never a third movie, which is typical when Hollywood haps upon a franchise.
NOTE: Yes, I'm about a week late posting this since I gas on about the Oscars. It's been a busy time, lately.
Read Pictures at a Revolution which was a sorta dull, straightforward history of the five films nominated for best Oscar in 1968. The premise is that was the exact year when old Hollywood supposedly succumbed to the new Hollywood, though that premise isn't given all that much analysis.
That's pretty much the problem with "Revolution": a lot of wind about "what" but not much about "why."
However, I've always been curious about Sidney Poitier - one of the primary topics of the book - because he was such a mainstay and huge star for a long time and then seemed to drop off the face of the planet. From what I can gather, he was the dual victim of black activism and white tokenism. On the one side, he was getting flack from black activists because he always played "good, safe" black men, and on the other side, he still wasn't considered for every leading role (read "leading roles meant for white guys") and was typecast as, well, Sidney Poitier. You wonder if he would've gotten past that had he not folded to the pressure to stop taking "Sidney Poitier" roles.
Aside from that, got two good pieces of trivia:
- Morgan Fairchild was Faye Dunaway's stunt double when her character had to drive because she couldn't drive a stick.
- The famous "Elaine!" scene in the church at the end of The Graduate where Hoffman had his arms out like he was Jesus on the cross was really just a "fix" because when he pounded on the glass (as he did on the first take), it would wobble and looked like it was going to break - it was not symbolic crucifixion as many critics at the time claimed.
TLD: Reading about The Graduate spurred a thought. When I worked at a vid store many moons ago, a couple stoners walked and asked for a surfing movie, so I gave them Apocalypse Now, which they loved, and forever after sought me out for recommendations. If that were today and someone walked in and asked for a movie on cougars, I'd hand them The Graduate.
And speaking of the Oscars, my wife and I used to view the Oscars as our superbowl, since neither of us are into professional competitive sports.
However, the type of movies that get nominated anymore are the tedious dramas with "plots" that used to be contained to the swamp of the literary fiction genre (incest! adultery! pedophilia! children dying! sexual predators! misery!), or spirited and preferably non-white foreigners overcoming something, or all gay all the time stuff (which knee-capped Broadway, so the movie folks better pay heed to the empty theaters showing Milk).
As this fun article points out, the Oscars are worth watching only if you've actually seen the movies that are nominated, which a larger portion of the movie-going public probably had not this year.
This jab from a "loved it, hated it" article made me laugh: "[T]the show bogged down with that somber bunch of Best Supporting Actresses intoning like they were going to banish the winner to the Forbidden Zone with General Zod." Those little ego-orgies were a bit much. Anthony Hopkins appeared to be especially mortified when his turn came to polish some nominee knob.
Ben Stiller's funny yet cruel impersonation of Joaquin Phoenix's publicly disintegrating mental health was a guilty hoot. Which led me to wonder about Tropic Thunder which I saw recently and was appalled at how unfunny it was. Why can't Stiller write and direct anything funny? He's great when he's doing someone else's material, but nearly everything he's written and directed has been on that edge of being funny; as you are watching it, you see how close it comes to actually being funny, but it just doesn't get there. So how can he be so funny in a context like the Oscars and/or improv, but just blow at movies? A question for the ages, apparently.
The self-righteous gay politicking got to be a bit much for me. For new readers (assuming, here): I don't feel marriage is a right, so framing it as such is silly and actually undercuts the goal of expanding the definition of it. Frinstance, are the polygamists attempting to frame it as a right? I think if the gay factions that do succeed, the polygamists will jump on that bandwagon, but they haven't gone down that road themselves, because they know everyone would laugh them out of the chamber if they suggested that being married to several women (or men) at once is a right. So hearing folks at the Oscars equate it with real human rights struggles is just an eye-roller.
Anyway, in a barely related tangent, I had a realization lately when I let my eldest (re)watch the two "Legally Blonde" movies.
But first, a little background: we'd let her see them with us they first came out, because there was a cute little doggie, and we thought the more adult stuff would go right over her head (she was about 5 or 6 I think). That was the case with the first one, but the second one prominently featured a subplot where we discover the cute little doggie is gay. They hammer on that so hard and draw such a complete picture that our little one finally asked what "gay" was. We were furious that we suddenly had that topic to vet, hoping she would be older before we had to have any sort of sex talk. Now, blame us, the parents, first, because we let her watch the movie before we knew what it contained. But they had so many toy tie-ins to the movies (she was cradling her own stuffed "Buster" ensconced in his Elle purse as we watched), I guess we didn't suspect that it would flounder so long in that particular realm of adult sexuality - or worse, attach it to the one character a child would fixate on.
So, I'd always wondered why they went that direction because it made the movie - which comes off like a GLAAD/PETA (the leader of PETA is gay) infomercial - nearly unwatchable. I suspect because it was because the first one, while trying to be sensitive by having a gay character, still takes a few swipes anyway. For instance, Elle solves the case by figuring out the guy who's supposed to be cheating with the wife is actually gay because he knows what brand of shoe she's wearing. And she carries Buster, her chihuahua, around in her purse (a PETA no-no).
So, the whole second movie is penance to GLAAD and PETA. And it feels like it. Who'da thunk a trifle about a valley girl who follows her BF to Harvard but ends up a lawyer would've been turned into a spinach movie for the sequel. Notice there was never a third movie, which is typical when Hollywood haps upon a franchise.
NOTE: Yes, I'm about a week late posting this since I gas on about the Oscars. It's been a busy time, lately.
AAAAAAAAAAAAK! Holy CRAP!
or "Schadenfreude"
I suspect that when the Material Girl served Guy Ritchie the papers, he secretly rejoiced that he could get back to boinking his leading ladies.
Y'know, not that other rock stars are doing the aging boogie that well either...
But jeez. She's gone from decent to a full-on two-bagger. (One for her, and one for you in case hers falls off, as the old joke goes.)
Recently my wife and I were bemoaning what aging does to the aesthetics of your body, even if you stay in shape, and we agreed is just ole Mother Nature taking you out of the dating pool whether you like it or not. Can't have all these old farts tempting the young and fertile away from whom they should be with for continuing the species.
For instance, here's what Mr. Heavy Metal himself looks like while shopping with his wife:
Hetfield in flip-flops.
I doubt one groupie would like twice, unless it was out of incredulousness.
or "Schadenfreude"
I suspect that when the Material Girl served Guy Ritchie the papers, he secretly rejoiced that he could get back to boinking his leading ladies.
Y'know, not that other rock stars are doing the aging boogie that well either...
But jeez. She's gone from decent to a full-on two-bagger. (One for her, and one for you in case hers falls off, as the old joke goes.)
Recently my wife and I were bemoaning what aging does to the aesthetics of your body, even if you stay in shape, and we agreed is just ole Mother Nature taking you out of the dating pool whether you like it or not. Can't have all these old farts tempting the young and fertile away from whom they should be with for continuing the species.
For instance, here's what Mr. Heavy Metal himself looks like while shopping with his wife:
Hetfield in flip-flops.
I doubt one groupie would like twice, unless it was out of incredulousness.
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Cracked Windshields All Over the Stadium Parking Lot
Boy, Pres. Obama just batted it out of the park with his address to congress last night! Several times.
Time to party!
(A Repub friend of mine sent me this in one of those emails mocking Dems, but I thought this really fit the positive mood Obama projected.)
I mean, members of congress were mobbing him and handing him copies of his speech to sign like he was a rock star. Have you EVER seen that happen?
And the next time anyone wails about the liberal slant to the media, I'm gonna tell them to join us back in reality. Check out the "Related" section on the Yahoo news article on the speech:
Is there even one positive article in there?
I also figured out one of the reasons why Repubs are flipping out so much about Obama - they're even more shrill than when Clinton was in office: it's because he's better than Reagan "the great communicator" and more charismatic, and they know it. They will now lose the image war they felt they'd won forever during Reagan to the Democrats (well, except the for wingnuts who will hate Obama just because). I'm lovin' that!
(Btw, the other main reason is that somewhere along the line, far right Repubs came up with the meme, which they apparently believe, that they are the true rulers of America, even when they don't hold the presidency or a majority in congress.)
It's nice being back on the happy side of the aisle again.
Boy, Pres. Obama just batted it out of the park with his address to congress last night! Several times.
Time to party!
(A Repub friend of mine sent me this in one of those emails mocking Dems, but I thought this really fit the positive mood Obama projected.)
I mean, members of congress were mobbing him and handing him copies of his speech to sign like he was a rock star. Have you EVER seen that happen?
And the next time anyone wails about the liberal slant to the media, I'm gonna tell them to join us back in reality. Check out the "Related" section on the Yahoo news article on the speech:
Is there even one positive article in there?
I also figured out one of the reasons why Repubs are flipping out so much about Obama - they're even more shrill than when Clinton was in office: it's because he's better than Reagan "the great communicator" and more charismatic, and they know it. They will now lose the image war they felt they'd won forever during Reagan to the Democrats (well, except the for wingnuts who will hate Obama just because). I'm lovin' that!
(Btw, the other main reason is that somewhere along the line, far right Repubs came up with the meme, which they apparently believe, that they are the true rulers of America, even when they don't hold the presidency or a majority in congress.)
It's nice being back on the happy side of the aisle again.
Monday, February 23, 2009
Reboot
It's been five years since Michael Blowhard suggested I start a blog. I was hesitant, not believing I really had that much to say. I've since discovered not having that much to say isn't an impediment. The joy is in the doing. Many times I've been surprised when I started writing out of a sense of responsibility (as I'm always thrilled when any of the blogs I read has a new post) and ended up with something entertaining (or at least I thought it was).
Even so, I felt it was time to reevaluate some things. Frinstance, though I really liked my old template (with the dots and stuff), I felt a small remodeling was due. I like the minimalist blue-screen look of this new template, fitting with the "reboot" theme. It has one big flaw in that any pics that are too large flow over into the menus on the right, and I haven't been able to figure out a wholesale fix, so older posts with big graphics might look a bit muddled.
I also considered just closing up shop for a while, feeling I've had a good run. My readership has pretty much topped out according to sitemeter, and is even dropping precipitously. I gave it a long and hard look, and nearly hit the delete button about a week ago. But then I remembered what I wrote in the first paragraph: this has become something for me as much as it is for anyone who reads this.
Just for the sake of completism, another thing I considered was deleting all but the "greatest hits" posts. But as I read through those I was thinking of consigning to the bin, I realized that I kinda dug them, too. So, here it all is. For better or worse. Blame Micheal.
To that end, I offer most humble apologies for my sallying forth to the windmills if you've stumbled here and feel I've wasted your time.
And most humble thanks for those of you who still check in once in a while. I'll try to make it worth your while and maybe make you smile.
It's been five years since Michael Blowhard suggested I start a blog. I was hesitant, not believing I really had that much to say. I've since discovered not having that much to say isn't an impediment. The joy is in the doing. Many times I've been surprised when I started writing out of a sense of responsibility (as I'm always thrilled when any of the blogs I read has a new post) and ended up with something entertaining (or at least I thought it was).
Even so, I felt it was time to reevaluate some things. Frinstance, though I really liked my old template (with the dots and stuff), I felt a small remodeling was due. I like the minimalist blue-screen look of this new template, fitting with the "reboot" theme. It has one big flaw in that any pics that are too large flow over into the menus on the right, and I haven't been able to figure out a wholesale fix, so older posts with big graphics might look a bit muddled.
I also considered just closing up shop for a while, feeling I've had a good run. My readership has pretty much topped out according to sitemeter, and is even dropping precipitously. I gave it a long and hard look, and nearly hit the delete button about a week ago. But then I remembered what I wrote in the first paragraph: this has become something for me as much as it is for anyone who reads this.
Just for the sake of completism, another thing I considered was deleting all but the "greatest hits" posts. But as I read through those I was thinking of consigning to the bin, I realized that I kinda dug them, too. So, here it all is. For better or worse. Blame Micheal.
To that end, I offer most humble apologies for my sallying forth to the windmills if you've stumbled here and feel I've wasted your time.
And most humble thanks for those of you who still check in once in a while. I'll try to make it worth your while and maybe make you smile.
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